The Taming of Haruhi Suzumiya
by Dorotheian
Summary: Haruhi Suzumiya recruits the protagonist of ChäoS;HEAd, Nishijou Takumi, for the SOS Brigade. Kyon, Itsuki, Yuki, and Mikuru are not sure how they feel about this, but the new kid could bring an interesting spin to the study and containment of Haruhi...if they can trust him. [currently on hiatus]
1. Chapter 1: Introductions

Haruhi Suzumiya / ChäoS;HEAd Crossover Fanfic:_ The Taming of Haruhi Suzumiya_

**Chapter One: Introductions**

_His_ name was Kyon. And _his_ name was Nishijou Takumi.

They both stared at Suzumiya Haruhi. Haruhi's smile was very wide.

Kyon had never seen a uniform like Takumi's before. In fact, he could hardly believe it was a uniform. Takumi had a tan blazer and a green tie, and shapeless, pajama-bottom plaid green pants. They appeared to be thin cotton, not the usual jeans or canvas cloth. This didn't help Takumi's appearance, because he looked nervously anxious and half-exhausted, as if he had gotten out of bed messily half-dressed. And Kyon had thought blue and white sailor suits were decadent.

Kyon was the first to speak up. "Haruhi, who _is_ this guy?"

"He's a second-year at a rival school—Suimei Academy, right? Nishijou Takumi." Kyon bit his tongue before he snapped, _I knew that_. Takumi nodded and seemed to shrink into himself. Haruhi continued, "And he is now an honorary member of the SOS Brigade."

Kyon crossed his arms. "I would like to know how that will be _technically_ possible given that the Brigade is _technically_ a local school club."

Haruhi, as usual, was unfazed. "No problem. Nishijou-kun will assist us in out-of-school capacity only." She tossed her hair.

Takumi, whose expression had not changed greatly throughout the whole exchange, stiffened noticeably.

Kyon frowned and cocked his head in consideration, letting his gaze flicker between them. "Fine," he said.

Haruhi beamed, and bounced off to inform the rest of the club.

"Nishijou-kun," Kyon began. "Are you okay with this?"

Takumi shifted his shoulders and glanced to the side. "_Un_. Yeah." He looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Haruhi can be a bit of a handful, I know," said Kyon. "But you'll get used to it."

Takumi nodded silently again.

Kyon leaned forward conspiratorially. "Where _did_ she get you from, by the way?"

"N-n-nowhere."

"So she just picked you up off the street," Kyon surmised.

Takumi looked distressed, almost to the point of wringing his hands.

"I guess I'd better introduce you to the club members before Haruhi does. C'mon." Kyon took Takumi's hand and pulled him over to Koizumi Itsuki. "Koizumi-kun, this is Nishijou Takumi. Nishijou-kun, this is Koizumi Itsuki. He's the biggest faker you'll ever be likely to meet; also, he transferred here last year. Normally, no one would think that is important, but Haruhi does."

"Nice to meet you," they said, and bowed. Itsuki looked amused, as usual, but Takumi barely looked at him at all. Poor kid.

Kyon caught Yuki's eye and beckoned; Yuki nodded back and approached. "Yuki, this is Nishijou Takumi. Nishijou-kun, this is Nagato Yuki. She used to be the book club member until the room got taken over."

They repeated the first-meeting ritual. Nishijou, Kyon noted, was stiffer than Yuki. This gave him a strange, unstable feeling in the back of his mind. Yuki had been improving lately in terms of emotional development, and she had gotten more graceful, for all that her expressions were neither negative nor positive. Yet Takumi was unnaturally stiff and his hands shook even while he was bowing.

Kyon felt badly for him. He jerked his head towards the door. "Koizumi-kun. Go distract Suzumiya," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, so that Nishijou couldn't hear him.

Itsuki laughed first, then warned, "It'll cost you."

"Just go. We've got to get this poor kid out of Haruhi's way. Name your price."

"Two ginger beers," Itsuki supplied instantly, already sliding away.

_Beers?_ Presumably alcoholic? Kyon was going to regret this. "Fine, got it. Just _go_!"

Luckily for Kyon, Takumi hadn't noticed anything. He was staring at Mikuru, who was in her maid suit. Luckily for Mikuru, she had not noticed. Normally Kyon would have stopped to appreciate Asahina's sheer cuteness, but right now was an emergency. "Asahina-san!" Kyon hissed, gesturing to her madly.

"_Hai_!" Mikuru answered in a voice that Kyon was pretty sure was the epitome of cute. She smiled at Takumi, and Kyon felt a brief flicker of envy. Kyon quickly introduced the two, confusedly explained Mikuru's maid suit with "she always serves the tea," then noticed that Takumi's eyes had abruptly gone blank. At the same time, Mikuru's eyes clouded.

"Yo. Nishijou-kun." Kyon snapped his fingers in front of Takumi, and he started.

"Ah— oh— what..." Takumi abruptly became confused and his face flushed. "Um, who are you?"

"Asahina Mikuru," Mikuru supplied.

Takumi mumbled, "I'm sorry," and stared at the floor.

"What?"

Abruptly, Takumi fell to his knees, hunched over with his hands on the floor, and spoke almost under his breath. Kyon bent to hear him. "Was that... a delusion?" Takumi hugged himself. "Or...hallucination...could it...? _Seira-tan_..."

The blood drained from Kyon's face. Great. Yet another crazy person. And Seira, wasn't that a character from _Blood Tunes the Animation_? Who watched that anymore?

From across the room, Koizumi caught his eye, dipped his head, and smiled extra widely. Haruhi incoming.

It was time to get Takumi out of the SOS Brigade Club room. It took Kyon another five seconds to get Takumi up, off the floor and out the door before Haruhi turned back around. They managed. _Click_ went the door behind them, and Kyon doubled over, gasping. "All right. Let's go. I'll walk you home, Nishijou-kun," Kyon said. The Brigade would go on without him.

"Okay." Takumi gripped the handle of his school satchel.

"Where do you live?"

Takumi shifted uncertainly. "It's easier to show you than tell you."

"Let me just say this right now," said Kyon, "Once Suzumiya figures out where you live, there will be no peace. Better keep it a secret from her. Should be easier for you, since you're not in the same school, at least, but that advantage could be gone in a heartbeat."

"I see," said Takumi.

Kyon asked, "So how was she going to keep in contact with you anyway?"

"She asked me to join," said Takumi. Kyon was getting a very bad feeling about this. "I said yes."

"So, you will come regularly?" Kyon asked.

"Yes."

"To look for— what's it she's always going on about? Espers, time travelers, aliens, and other scientifically unproven, unexplained, and undetectable phenomena?" Kyon inquired. "She was just _looking_ for members?"

"Yes."

Kyon ran one hand through his hair and sighed. _I think this is the first time Haruhi's direct asking approach has worked_. Then remembered. _Except maybe with me...but then she kind of took my idea, ran with it, and pulled me with her, so I never really thought of my involvement as voluntary... _"And then," he prodded, knowing there was probably more to the story, where Haruhi was involved.

"We were on the train. I was going home from school. She stole my laptop and took my contact information. Er, I got it back. Except my address, because I, uh, don't have an address. Um... actually, she might call on my sister, I guess...? She's going to laugh at me..." Takumi started mumbling. "Oh, that's right." Takumi's eyes alighted on Kyon, and then he looked straight into Kyon's eyes. "I don't know your name."

Kyon felt a kind of jolt as he remembered that Haruhi hadn't exactly introduced them properly — only Takumi. "Ah. Ah, I'm so sorry! I'm Kyon. Um." He never told people his real name; as far as he was concerned, it was an abomination. "Call me Kyon. Everyone calls me that."

"Call me Takumi. Um. Back there," said Takumi softly, "I'm really sorry about that."

"It's no problem," Kyon said uncomfortably. "We all do that around Asahina, sometimes, we're just a little less obvious about it..."

"If— if I do anything strange," said Takumi, "just... just do _that_ again, would you?"

_Er... Okay_. "Anytime," said Kyon, forcing himself to smile.

"Thanks," Takumi muttered again, and his face turned back to the pavement.

They reached Takumi's apartment. Takumi hesitated to show Kyon all the way up, but Kyon insisted, saying that his house was nearby, so Takumi led the way.

Once on the top, Kyon surveyed the space in silence. It was pitiful, really. On the side of the building's flat roof was a small garage; no, just a shed. It did not look comfortable from the outside, and the inside did not contradict that assumption. The shed was sheer metal, and the floor was cold concrete. The room must be freezing in the winter. There was a couch on one side, next to the door, and a computer desk on the other. The rest of the shadowy shed was taken up by chrome Ikea shelves, and was cram packed with books, games, and figurines.

Takumi confessed before Kyon said anything. "It's true. I'm a _hikikomori_ and an _otaku_. I don't really get out much. That's why I didn't really want you to see..."

"So you skip school a lot?" Kyon kept his tone measured.

"Uh, yeah. I had an, um, a schedule..." Takumi reddened. "Although actually I don't skip much anymore. Both my sis and my girlfriend got on my case, and said there wasn't any excuse after... never mind. Although I'm lucky just to be passing."

Clearly, Takumi was in over his head in _life_, never mind with the SOS Brigade. Kyon opened his satchel, rummaged around a little, wrote his name, phone, and address on a piece of paper and handed it to Takumi. "If you need anything," he said. "Also, if you don't want to get dragged into _my_ school during the day, I tell you, _don't_ tell Haruhi that you sometimes skip school. Like I said, you'll never have any peace and I won't be responsible for the consequences."

Takumi clutched the paper. "Thanks," he said, and Kyon left.

* * *

_Disclaimer: I'm only stating this once. I do not profit from this work of fan fiction. I do not own the characters who I am borrowing from the_ Haruhi Suzumiya _series_ _and _ChäoS;HEAd. _I do not write canon, I derive my work from canon. Any questions?_


	2. Chapter 2: Theory Trumps Theory

**Chapter Two: Theory Trumps Theory**

Kyon now had the problem of getting Itsuki the two ginger beers. After a quick internet search, he was relieved to find that, despite the name, they contained no alcohol. Lately the Brigade had been skirting the letter of the law pretty closely. Kyon had no desire to risk any more on its account. The problem was, ginger beers were sold in America. Which made sense. Itsuki was a 'mysterious transfer student' after all...

So he paid a visit to an American trade shop, which informed him that, unfortunately, ginger beer was not popular enough even in America to carry in their shop. Luckily the manager took pity on him and offered to order a special shipment for him, which would occur the week after next. It would take all of his pocket money, though. Kyon sent Itsuki black thoughts. Next time Haruhi took them to a restaurant, Itsuki was paying for sure.

Takumi came to every meeting. As usual, Yuki read her book, Asahina brewed tea, Itsuki and Kyon played Othello, and Haruhi frowned, muttered, and clicked the computer mouse intermittently. Takumi usually watched Itsuki and Kyon play Othello (although he was next to useless at it) and traded places with one of them, or played a video game that he brought from home. Occasionally he let Kyon play his games; Takumi had good taste in them, so Kyon was surreptitiously assembling a list to buy when he had pocket money. If Haruhi ever left him enough after he paid for the Brigade's meals. Haruhi herself paid Takumi no real attention. The club already had a hallowed routine before Takumi came, and it was pretty much the same afterwards.

Kyon knew there was something strange about the new kid, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Yuki said that he was a normal human being, and no unusual data had been generated about him. Itsuki hadn't heard anything from the espers. As always, Mikuru only answered "classified," although she did mention that she was pretty sure that the time-travelers were being careful and that the information wasn't terribly important. For some reason it wasn't necessary to censor that, either.

So Takumi was a complete and utter mystery. He tended to space out when he looked at the girls. Usually Mikuru was the catalyst, but occasionally it was Yuki or Haruhi. Kyon chalked it up to his being _otaku_, but there was still something funny, and his endless apologies and mutterings about someone called "Seira-tan." Kyon hadn't yet got the nerve to ask if it was Seira was the cartoon girl from _Blood Tunes_.

Finally Haruhi scheduled a search posse for paranormal paraphernalia. For some reason, she didn't bother making them walk in pairs. Kyon immediately asked all the members to appear to walk in opposite directions and then meet him at the usual meeting spot. He needed to ask them about how to reveal the significance of the club to Takumi. Haruhi might be clueless, but Takumi probably had a right to know what they could do. The Brigade couldn't function without that. Kyon asked the alien, the esper, and the time-traveler to reveal their true identities to Takumi. They consented, except Itsuki, who reminded Kyon of his debt, carefully scrutinized Kyon's reaction, admitted he was kidding and then agreed. Kyon was learning to notice when Itsuki was playing his cards close to the chest, but it didn't annoy him any less when he did it.

They said that Kyon would have to talk to Takumi first about Suzumiya. Kyon wondered whether it was better to reveal Suzumiya's nature last rather than first, and asked for advice on how to reveal it, but they all shrugged and said it was Kyon's job because what worked to convince Kyon might not work for Takumi. No help at all. After school the next day, Kyon took Takumi to Suzumiya's favorite restaurant and ordered ice cream for them both.

The time arrived. Kyon slid into his seat at the parlor. "Hey, Takumi."

"Eh?" Takumi blinked out of whatever daydream he was having. Takumi always sat at tables the same way: slightly hunched over, forearms and palms flat on the table, as if they were glued there, unless the table was too high — then he let his hands rest on his knees. He stared at the grains in the wood rather shallowly, too.

"I've got something to tell you. About the Brigade."

Takumi looked up at Kyon, wide-eyed.

"I wanted to tell you before Suzumiya went and got some crazy ideas, because then it would be too late." Kyon leaned forward. "You may have noticed that the Brigade members follow Suzumiya but don't comply exactly to her orders. Well, except for Mikuru, because... oh, never mind."

Takumi nodded.

"The point is, there's something that we want to prevent Suzumiya from realizing. Her power." Kyon stared intently into Takumi's eyes, which widened again. "I could tell you a lot of stoires, but I don't think you'd believe me unless you saw it for yourself. And unfortunately the talking cat's gone, so we can't ask him."

"T-t-talking c-cat?" Takumi's eyes were as wide as they could get. It was really freaky.

Kyon talked faster. "Yeah. He's my cat now. You can see him if you like; he doesn't talk anymore. Here's what Haruhi can do: she can rewrite reality if she wishes hard enough. Cats can't talk, right? Just this one time, though, we were filming a movie and Haruhi wanted a witch's cat familiar … which apparently meant that the cat could talk. I never really figured that one out. We had to make it promise not to speak in front of her because then she'd accept it as real. As you'll come to find out, the world is oddly malleable to her desires. The cat was rather cooperative though."

"Oh." Takumi's hands started shaking.

"Everyone has their own theories. Here's the rundown: Koizumi thinks that she is the god of this world, and the world didn't exist three years ago. Nagato says that she generates data and could be the key to human evolution. And Asahina, well, she says that the past can't be accessed since three years ago. It is possible that none of the three would even exist if it not for her. She did announce at the beginning of the year that she was looking for espers, aliens, and time-travelers, even if she didn't believe me when I told her that they were already in her club. I'm the only normal human in the Brigade."

Takumi stood up. "So you're saying. . ."

"None of us want this world to be deleted and rebooted. Which is exactly what we're afraid that Haruhi is going to do when she gets bored playing in our world. Since you're in the club, too, you need to help us cover reality for Haruhi as best you can."

"The... the world... is in danger?" Takumi backed away from the table.

Kyon didn't know what to say to that. "Um. Yeah. Kinda."

"Then she's the most powerful gigalomaniac in existence!" Takumi exclaimed, horrified.

"What's a gigalo— Gigalo-_monstrak_?"

"Gigalomaniac. I'm a gigalomaniac," Takumi said, receding into himself again and sitting down. "I make delusions into reality. But- or—although sometimes they're just delusions. Yua told me I was schizophrenic or something before she tried to turn me over to the police, but then someone killed my doctor so I guess I'll never know now…Er."

"Oh," said Kyon. _I guess I'm the only normal human here, again_. A trickle of sweat dripped down his forehead. He pinched the bridge of his nose. _The police_. "Do you have an, ah, society, by any chance?" This job was way harder than the rest of the Brigade gave him credit for.

"It's not a society by any means," Takumi muttered. "We just exist. There's Ayase, and Kozzy, and Sena... other gigalomaniacs who took me under their wing. They asked me to join the Brigade." He stared bleakly at Kyon.

_Great, we have another agenda_.

"There isn't an agenda. They just asked me to keep an eye on it," said Takumi, inexplicably.

Kyon covered his eyes and groaned. "So you knew all of this already."

Takumi pulled himself straighter, and his eyes went wide again, but with surprise and gratitude this time. "No—-no, truth is, actually, this explains a lot! I found a lot of errors around your school ... that's why."

"Errors," said Kyon, holding his head, and wondered why he wanted to know.

Takumi nodded. "Yeah. Problems with reality." He returned to staring at the table.

Kyon blew through his lips. "A gigalomaniac. We always knew Haruhi was a bit of a _megalo_maniac, but I guess what you're saying is that she _is_ a maniac, but a different kind because she actually has godlike powers."

"Yes, I suppose so." Takumi squirmed. And, again, Kyon was suddenly struck with pity and a bit of regret for what he said. When he reflected, he had never met anyone so unlikely to be diagnosed with megalomania. If anything, Takumi needed an extra boost of confidence.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit tense." Kyon sighed. "I've known Haruhi longer than you have, and sometimes her cluelessness gets on my nerves. So, if there's anything you can add about Haruhi, Nishijou-kun...?"

"If she's as powerful as you say, then she might have called other gigalomaniacs into existence, too. Maybe she sensed her own abilities and made more people like herself? No. It doesn't fit." Takumi frowned and shook his head. "I've never heard of anyone who could delude the _entire_ world, not just their immediate surroundings — at least not without a booster machine." Takumi blanched. "But then...she doesn't know, I guess, because the scale of the changes are so big. She doesn't have delusions innately, like me. Her imagination is just a bit too lively, which actually gives her a bit more control. It lines up with your story… the girl gigalomaniacs I know seem more like her. For us, sometimes rewriting reality is a matter of wishing hard enough. If a gigalomaniac wishes hard enough, a D-Sword isn't necessary."

Kyon sighed. "That's Haruhi for you. Rules don't apply. What's a D-Sword?"

Takumi's lips twitched (perhaps with amused irony) but otherwise he didn't appear to notice the question. "However, the world could not have begun three years ago for her being a gigalomaniac to be true. Haruhi was born to people; she deludes other people, some of whom existed before she did. Haruhi didn't create the world three years ago—-she overlaid it." Takumi's eyes widened. "You might consider what _other_ kinds of events were going on three years ago. I need to tell the others about this," said Takumi. He got up and bolted.

"Uh. Yeah. Okay, right." For a moment, Kyon stared at his empty ice-cream bowl, trying to kickstart his brain. Then he dropped his spoon, threw down his napkin, and ran to the door.

Takumi was gone, leaving no trail behind him. What a skittish guy.


	3. Chapter 3: Return & Refusal of a Favor

**Chapter Three: The Return and Refusal of a Favor**

Kyon went home and typed up notes from his conversation with Takumi and the little he learned. The next morning he printed out three copies, cut the paper into three pieces, and deposited the notes in Yuki's, Mikuru's, and Itsuki's shoe lockers. That afternoon, as circumspectly as they knew with Haruhi about, they let him know that they had received and understood the implications of his notes. A week passed.

Kyon finally retrieved the ginger beer. The shopkeepers were quite nice, and gave him coupons to distribute to his friends to encourage them to buy the rest of the shipment. Although he couldn't blame the shopkeepers for doing their best to get rid of their new unpopular surplus, at first Kyon felt a bit irritated by the gift. Then he thought better of it — distributing them might be a good distraction for Haruhi — and Itsuki would like some, of course. That put him in a more cheerful mood.

He brought the ginger beer in his backpack to school. After club was over, Itsuki dragged him to a public park table to talk...and Kyon just knew it. He'd done his bit, and now Itsuki was going to screw him over. For something. With a polite smile on his face that belied whatever he had worked himself up to say. It would have to be something vaguely unpleasant, centering around Haruhi, stated in the most open terms and in a completely undeniable way.

The sun was setting. It would be dark soon, and Kyon would have liked to have made it home before the stars came out for once. Kyon shoved a handful of coupons at Itsuki from across the table. "Since I went to the trouble, the American commodity store has a whole crate of the ginger drink now. They're desperate to get rid of it."

Itsuki laughed lightly. "Thanks. I'll do so. You sure are prompt." He looked over the bottles appreciatively. "You got the good stuff, didn't you?"

"Not on purpose, you can be sure. I know nothing." Kyon's face slid into his aggrieved expression of affronted amusement. "I won't grant this request again. Are you crazy? _Yareyare_."

"Of course not." Itsuki smiled like a shark. "I'll bet you're wondering why I asked for these," said Itsuki, leaning across the table.

Kyon nodded tersely.

"We really don't know anything about each other, do we?" said Itsuki, and slid back. He popped the tops off the bottles. "I'm beginning to feel that you don't trust me."

Kyon sighed. "Sure." You, least of all the Brigade. You're the most human, you have the most to hide, you have the biggest and most strenuous agenda, and you act like a yes-man even when you aren't one. You are always the one in the position with the least to lose. Why would I trust you?

Itsuki poured the drink into glasses and handed one to Kyon. "Here. Try it. You should know what you bought."

Kyon sipped and wrinkled his nose. Itsuki giggled. Kyon deliberately took another sip, not meeting his eyes, and forced himself to swallow. He had to gasp at the end. Itsuki giggled some more, and Kyon felt irritated. He had never heard Itsuki giggle before, but true to form, it was creepy.

"So," said Itsuki, wiping the tears from his eyes, "Is it marketable in Japan?" He must have really enjoyed himself, Kyon thought in disgust.

"I'm sure there are some who like the taste of strong ginger," said Kyon. His own eyes were watering. He swiped at the wetness and blinked angrily.

"Thought so," said Itsuki smugly.

Kyon shook his head. "But not _that_ much. I think it's one-use only." He took another sip and blanched. Too much.

At least Itsuki didn't laugh this time. He just looked thoughtful. "Well, we'll see."

Against his better judgment, Kyon decided to kick-start the conversation again. Get to the point. "It's an American drink, right? Did you miss it or something?"

"Mmm. Not really. Yeah. It's not that popular in America, either. The best ones are called Stoneys and they're sold in several African countries, but not America. Ah, well, this is quite enough."

Kyon crossed his arms. "So you've been to Africa?"

Itsuki smiled at him, and Kyon felt perversely impatient and put out.

"I've been traveling my whole life," Itsuki answered, still vague.

Kyon wondered when he started to assume that Itsuki's origins were American. He sighed in frustration and gave it up. He wished he knew exactly Itsuki's parents _did_. "Africa is closer to Japan than America, so maybe they really got them from there?"

"They did." Itsuki slid his elbow to rest on the table and let his head rest on one hand. "Well, you've repaid a favor to me. There must be something I can do to thank you."

"Give me my money back?" Kyon suggested.

Itsuki laughed again. "No, sorry. You'll have to ask for something else."

Kyon pushed the bottle suggestively in the direction of Itsuki.

"I've been rejected, huh?" said Itsuki, and at first Kyon thought he was going to laugh it off. "I might have expected that." His voice deepened slightly, perhaps with anger, and Kyon knew that something was badly wrong. "So, I am _less_ than a friend to you, after all that has happened."

Inside, Kyon felt alarm scream through his nerves. He had just offended Itsuki, and now he was finally upset — with Kyon. The mask Itsuki showed to Haruhi, the Brigade, and the world, had just now cracked and partially broken. Wasn't this what Kyon had wanted, once upon a time? But suddenly Kyon realized that he didn't. Not anymore. In a panic, he backed off. "I meant, I'll think about it," Kyon muttered, and got up.

Itsuki seized Kyon's wrist. "Don't go yet."

As usual, Itsuki was _too close_. "_Why_?" Kyon's arm yanked against Itsuki's grip as he stepped out to leave.

"Who's the one you turn to for explanations of Haruhi's behavior? Who's the one you ask for help? Who's the one who plays games with you_every_ single _day?_" Itsuki shouted. "_Just listen_!"

"What's got into you? I _am_ listening. I'm always listening. You never _hinted_ that you had anything important to say!" Kyon protested, and stood stock still.

Itsuki likewise froze, mouth open, before the anger took over and he snarled, "You _idiot!_ Why else would I arrange a meeting?"

In a low voice, Kyon said, not looking at him, "Look, there are other people in this park, too. Please let go. They'll think we are — _you know_."

Itsuki released his wrist, and Kyon turned back to him and the table and sat down.

"I'm sorry I rejected your gift. I didn't think you would react like that," Kyon said quietly, and Itsuki relented a little.

Itsuki shuffled his feet, and looked down. "I'm sorry, also. I should not have gotten angry at you. There was no way that you could have known how I was feeling."

Kyon blinked, stunned by the admission. "I'm glad you realize that," said Kyon, shaken, and stood thinking. He folded his arms.

Some time after, Itsuki broke the silence. "I'm sorry," Itsuki repeated. "I can't think how to make you understand."

Instinctively, Kyon reacted with teeth. "That's exactly what I'm worried about," Kyon snapped, and kept thinking, and this time Itsuki kept quiet.

Finally, Kyon thought he had an inkling of what was going on. There had been only one change in the Brigade. Itsuki's favor and Kyon's debt to him on account of that change had led to this meeting. And then, shouting about friendship— It occurred to him. He tipped his head sideways. "Are you ... somehow ... jealous of Nishijou-kun?" Kyon asked incredulously.

Itsuki's mask settled to lie naturally on his face. "Of course not," he said, smiling of course. It didn't reach his eyes—they were closed.

Kyon said flatly, "If so, why didn't you ask someone else to do the explaining?" And waited.

Itsuki didn't move either, except to open his eyes. But the mask slipped, and he seemed ashamed.

Then, completely still, Kyon asked softly, "All right. What's your rationalization?"

"_That kid_," said Itsuki grimly, "is genuinely crazy." His hands tightened into fists.

"Yes — to a degree, anyway. I know that."

Itsuki shook his head. "No, you don't. An esper would know, but you don't." His voice became somewhat desperate.

"I know he's practically... well, he's got some kind of hallucinatory psychotic disorder," said Kyon, cautiously.

"Worse. He's just like Haruhi."

"That's what he said. A gigalomaniac."

"So you heard it all before," said Itsuki darkly.

"Stop that. You know you're being unfair." Kyon sat back down, heavily. "No. Not all. I want to hear it from your side."

Itsuki's body tilted to the side with shock. Then he righted himself and returned to normalcy.

"Did you really think I wouldn't listen? What got into you?" Kyon shook his head. "Never mind. Itsuki, his explanations for Haruhi's state of being conflict with yours. But they're more complete, and less extreme, and thus more likely. So far, you've been consistently operating from the worst-case scenario." Kyon leaned forward. "Can you honestly tell me it has no effect on your judgment? Because you do not agree? I know it does with Asahina. She approached me about _you_, after all, in our first year."

Itsuki stared at him, mouth slightly open. He shook his head slightly.

"Well, then. What other reasons do you have?"

He opened his mouth, and closed it. "He's right," said Itsuki, taken aback. "About what Suzumiya is. And the overlays. It was always rather unlikely that she was god. We knew that."

_Which almost means that plenty of _your_ theories up to now are wrong. _Kyon sat back. The thought '_do you want to talk about it_' floated across his mind, and he almost laughed, but didn't. "Yeah. Well, at least Haruhi's not as unstable as Nishijou."

"The truth may correspond better to Nishijou's theories, but there are still unexplained discrepancies. That doesn't explain the giants, which _are_ a sign of instability. Or why time travel is periodically undergoing total havoc."

Kyon had forgotten about the giants. He shouldn't have. Whenever he had run into them (which was rare) the scene was completely unnerving and catastrophically unforgettable (but maybe that was why he wanted to forget). It was a bad sign, especially when he was with Itsuki, whose spare moments were usually occupied with fighting them. "Perhaps you should observe Nishijou-kun more closely, since I cannot," he suggested.

Itsuki blinked.

"It seems that you didn't trust me, either," said Kyon. "When you put your thoughts together, report back. I can guess at some of your concerns. Nishijou-kun is an unknown quantity. He has a disorder and is, therefore, unpredictable — though he seems to have good self-control. I believe you have more skills to deal with him if he does something unexpected than I do. If he _is_ the same as Suzumiya, your powers might work on him also. Oh, and you shouldn't have the same problem as the girls."

Itsuki had to think about that. "... the spacing out?"

Kyon nodded. "So you noticed. I'm pretty sure it's not his fault."

"What, so _that_ isn't just puberty in all its glory?"

Kyon coughed. "Ahem. No, it must be a delusion or something, because he's _really_ apologetic when he goes back to reality." He mused, "It's got to be hard when every time you have a fantasy, you wake up to find it's not real, and then slowly realize that maybe it's not something another person would necessarily want to be thought about themselves. I'm sure you've also had a few dreams like that."

Itsuki crossed his arms, neither denying nor confirming, and refused to become sympathetic. "Shouldn't he be used to it by now?" Itsuki queried spitefully.

"I wondered that, too." Kyon shrugged. "Personality, maybe? Tell me what you find out," he said, about to leave, but then remembered that burning question of his. "Ah, if you would, could you help me out and ask him who Seira-tan is? Isn't she from _Blood Tunes_?"

"Is she?" Itsuki echoed. "If I remember, I'll ask first thing. Nice conversation starter, Kyon. See you." Kyon could not tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Itsuki was halfway out of the playground when he turned around and shouted, "This does _not_ count as my payback favor to you!"

Kyon nodded at him, waved, and left.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ _You all would probably like an explanation for the anachronistic insertion of ginger beer and the Coca-Cola brand Stoneys. It's a family thing...something you know when relatives have lived in Africa for years and you have been to visit. I personally hate the taste of ginger (unless it's in Japanese cooking), but my family raves about it. Did you know ginger is good for car sickness? It's useful on dirty, bumpy, twisty pot-holed roads. The things you learn. Please forgive me for having a little bit of personal fun, and if you ever do come across the stuff, think of me and try it out for Pete's sake!_


	4. Chapter 4: Blood Tunes

**Chapter Four:_ Blood Tunes_**

Nishijou-kun was nowhere to be found as far as Kyon was concerned, but Itsuki had a good idea of where he was. It was fuzzy — Nishijou twisted the universe in a slightly different direction than Itsuki was used to — but Kyon's prediction was right: the same esper abilities that had worked with Haruhi were similarly effective on Nishijou.

Nishijou had gone to the shopping district. Following him ought to have been simple, but Nishijou had gone through a couple of back alleys and entrances with which Itsuki was not familiar, and twisted space as he went. That slowed Itsuki's progress. Nishijou probably didn't even know that he was doing it. Just like Haruhi. They really were the same kind of being.

Itsuki finally caught up with Nishijou. He was talking to a couple of girls, which Itsuki noted with surprise, because Nishijou usually avoided girls at the Brigade and whenever Itsuki had seen him in public elsewhere. Given the usual spacing-out behavior, Itsuki couldn't really blame him. But now — ? What was he doing? Itsuki decided to make himself invisible.

"Sena-san! _Konbanwa_." Nishijou waved and ran up to the tall girl with healthy and long black hair who was eating a light-blue acid ice pop. Slung over her shoulder was a very large sword.

Itsuki was annoyed to find he had overlooked it when he first saw her. Ah. But then nobody else was staring at her either...

Another girl ran up, this one short with straw-colored hair that came out of twin ponytails in long, separate strands that seemed to float perfectly twined around each other. She didn't seem to say anything, she just stared at Nishijou, who stared back, and then suddenly Nishijou smiled.

Weirder and weirder. A second glance and Itsuki saw the second "sword" — except this one was more like a very large ice scraper. Ridiculous.

Nishijou leaned closer to the girl. "Kozzy? What is it?" asked Nishijou.

Kozzy stared at Nishijou some more.

"Oh, him?" Nishijou glanced at where Itsuki was standing and furrowed his brow. Itsuki felt shock creep up his legs and spine at being discovered. He thought he was invisible — "He's from the SOS Brigade." But Nishijou's eyes didn't paused over Itsuki, they slid over, and the girls didn't seem to know where he was exactly, either. So maybe he was still invisible to them, but Kozzy had some idea of where he was. A telepath?

The two girls relaxed slightly, but they didn't tell Itsuki to come or go, which rather confirmed his suspicion that they knew he was there, but couldn't see him.

"It's okay. None of them are from NOZOMI," said Nishijou placatingly.

The black-haired girl, Sena, scowled. Itsuki decided to levitate up to the building above them. Might as well be a literal eavesdropper, and it wouldn't do if anyone on the street ran into him by accident. "Can't do anything about it, right?" Sena took a big bite of ice-pop. "Well, it has nothing to do with us. Let him stay."

"Heh heh, ha, ha," Nishijou laughed in a watery way.

Kozzy radiated concern.

"No, it really isn't that hard," said Nishijou to Kozzy. "Suzumiya is not that bad. Yet? I don't know. Kyon can't decide if she's getting 'better' or biding her time until she does something insensitive and turns the school upside down and inside-out."

Itsuki wondered again, with some pain, just how much Kyon had done to take the boy under his wing. He didn't think that Nishijou was as helpless as he appeared.

"_Dattara_? In which case?" Sena prompted.

"Suzumiya is a gigalomaniac like us. I don't know what to do!" Nishijou waved his hands.

Exactly, thought Itsuki.

Kozzy added something to only Nishijou, because Nishijou translated for Sena. "She says that I should decide for myself."

Sena finished her electric blue ice-pop. "Dummy. You should," she said, and neatly tossed the wooden stick into a nearby 'burnable trash' can. It clanged.

"What, no advice?" Nishijou said, aghast.

"That's the way it always is, Nishijou-kun. Do you think this assignment would change anything? Keep your delusions to yourself," Sena said bluntly, and walked away. Kozzy stared after her in distress, gave Nishijou a quick hug and a sympathetic look, and scampered after her. The ice-scraper sword clanked on her tiny shoulders whenever she hopped up or down from the sidewalk.

"Actually, she says I already have the right advice," Nishijou muttered. "Is that you, Itsuki?"

Itsuki levitated himself down from the ledge and dropped the invisibility. "At your service. My Lordto," he added, quoting the infamous Black Butler. He bowed.

"Uwaaah!" Nishijou yelled, "Sebastian-san!" and turned around so quickly that he fell into a heap. Being on the edge of insanity, recovering his wits took a moment or two to do, but at last he recognized Itsuki. Nishijou sure got up slowly.

So the invisibility _did _work on him. Useful thing to know.

"Yeah, right. Hey, Kyon wanted to ask you who Seira-tan is." Itsuki stepped closer and bent down to help him up.

"She's from _Blood Tunes_," said Nishijou nervously, but his face had drained white.

"That's what he thought. What is she to _you_, though?"

"She's my dream," said Nishijou hesitatingly.

"Dream girl... Ah, a hallucination?"

"Mm. Yeah. Delusion." Nishijou chewed his lips.

"Rather embarrassing," Itsuki commented.

In a flash Nishijou's abject paleness turned a bright pink. "She keeps following me around," he muttered. "And everything's over. I thought I had done with it...her..."

"Is that so? It's not really my business." Perhaps Itsuki was enjoying his superiority a little too much. As expected, Nishijou had turned even redder at the 'kindness.'

"I made her jealous," Nishijou mumbled.

The corner of Itsuki's mouth curled upwards. He knew enough of that emotion lately, and it made him just the tiniest bit cruel. "What of?" he prompted, already knowing the answer.

"Other girls. 3D-girls," Nishijou moaned, covering his face in his hands.

Itsuki winced. It was such an _otaku _way of descibing the problem. Oh, well. It made sense. So that's why he was so spacey around Yuki, Suzumiya, and Asahina... He changed the subject. "Do you ever see electric-blue giants?" he said, turning around suddenly. "They appear in closed-spaces and start destroying the city."

Nishijou shook his head mutely, surprised at the change in subject.

"Or perhaps I should say they exist in an exact copy of our universe which can be accessed from Earth, but does not intersect with it."

Nishijou shook his head again.

Itsuki sighed out again, blowing at a spike of hair that had drifted in front of his eyes. Apparently, talking to a sentient gigalomaniac was no better than gathering information by inference from one Suzumiya Haruhi. "The giants are symbols of Suzumiya's boredom, really. They help her take out her subconscious anger on things that can't really be hurt or affect this world."

"So ... you're suggesting that I might have something like that?" said Nishijou, wrinkling his forehead and struggling to follow Itsuki's logic.

"Yes," said Itsuki precisely, following Nishijou's lead.

"Like Seira-tan. Seira-tan doesn't affect anything in reality," Nishijou offered. "But I can see her."

Itsuki frowned and cocked his head, remembering. That time when Kyon and Haruhi were locked in the other-space, had Haruhi seen the monster? He thought she did. She must have, it was almost upon them when they kissed— but she hadn't acted like— it wasn't a big deal, or something— The kiss was more important to her than the giants—

Those thoughts were painful. He forced his mind onto other things. "Then perhaps Seira-tan is, for you, serving the same or a similar purpose as Haruhi's godlike blue giants. Can you summon her? I wouldn't ask normally, but your delusions seem more manageable than Haruhi's. Less power."

Nishijou shrugged unhappily. "It only works if there are girls around. I can't predict when she'll pop up otherwise."

That was another thing troubling Itsuki. "You didn't seem to have problems with Sena and Kozzy."

"Oh, them, well. I've known them a lot longer than the Brigade. When I first met Seira, Kozzy, and the rest, I was having delusions at least once every time we met. It was so nerve-wracking, I... Of course, that was before I knew that I was a gigalomaniac, and understood how that made me different." Nishijou shuddered. "Seira and Kozzy are gigalomaniacs themselves; they can, to a degree, repel others' hallucinations. That's our function, really. We think we evolved to combat NOZOMI."

Goodness, Nishijou's condition had actually _improved_. "So what's NOZOMI?" Itsuki asked guardedly.

"As you might expect, the acronym means '_wish_.' You don't want to know. They caused that earthquake last spring and created mass hallucinations. They wanted to unify this country by making everyone see the same things so they would believe the same things. It really didn't make sense, but it was real, and the government couldn't do a thing about it. NOZOMI also effectively killed both of Sena's parents," said Nishijou matter-of-factly. He swallowed. "They did a lot of illicit experimenting. It might as well have been called torture. Anyway, we—Kozzy, Sena, my ex-girlfriend Rimi and I—took them out roughly three years ago. They had this device they called NOAH II, you see, and we destroyed it. They're still around, in fewer numbers. We're trying to find all the copies of the magic formula floating around right now."

A great service to humanity, to be sure. Itsuki shuddered. It seemed plausible, even if it had overtones of over-hyped conspiracy. While he — the Brigade — had been doing _what_? Distracting Haruhi, mostly. But what if NOZOMI had something to do with Haruhi, too? ...

"I'm sure whatever you were doing was equally important, Itsuki," said Nishijou, in one of his rare fits of perceptiveness.

Itsuki looked away carefully. "It's nothing." He had no doubts.

"No, really. In your own way, you made sure our physical world wasn't destroyed. Those NOZOMI mooks had no idea what they were unleashing. However well-intentioned the individual, gigalomaniacs' powers are dangerous. I can't say that keeping Haruhi in the dark is the right…nor the wrong…thing to do. So I will help you." It was the most sensible thing Itsuki had ever heard Nishijou say. "The truth is that there are some days when I'd give anything not to have known anything about it. But on the other hand is the truth that if I hadn't known, I would not exist, and some of my friends would have died."

"Well, thanks, then." Itsuki swallowed over a rare lump in his throat with difficulty. Dammit, last time he had thought about this — his doubts about his duty — he had instantly denied them and covered up his feelings again before he could look at them too closely, giving the usual response as always. It was barely within his abilities to show that instant of "genuine" surprise which would convince him that what he said was the complete truth. And yet it was the truth — as an esper — He closed his eyes, and pressed his palms to them.

_I like watching you sleep_.

It was an American movie, a silly, romantic one with seductive vampires and a sappy heroine. The voice wasn't the vampire like in the movie, however; the voice was of a young girl, hyper and happy and deliberately stylized, coming from behind Itsuki. He whipped around, but no one was there, and there was not even a TV screen within sight to justify it...

Itsuki didn't want to think about ... it was wrong. Wrong. The skin on the back of his neck crawled, as if his hair had transformed into little wriggling feelers. He fervently wanted to deny it. How did she _know_?

Nishijou smiled sadly at Itsuki. "Seira-tan came anyway. She's gone again, though."

Itsuki almost lost his sense of balance upon hearing the words, and he whispered, "I think... I think I'm going home." He whipped around, and ran.

All was quiet for a moment, and then—"Seira-tan, he's not even a girl," Nishijou said sadly to the open air. A girl's high, light laugh threaded eerily through the air, making it shimmer, and her arms appeared to wind themselves around Nishijou's neck, like heavy weights.

* * *

Itsuki didn't go home. He ran to Kyon's house. It was closer, and…it was like something, an inner sense or certainty perhaps, was driving him there…

Kyon's little sister opened the door and laughed at him. Itsuki asked her for Kyon's whereabouts, she said something wildly inappropriate, and Itsuki smiled through the pain and walked on through. Kyon's sister closed the door behind him.

"_Ara_, Koizumi-kun, is it?" said Kyon's mother, smiling brightly. "Kyon is upstairs. Now, my child, we don't say those words. And don't lie, either, not even in jest. Apologize to Koizumi-kun."

"I'M SORRY, KOIZUMI-KUN!" Kyon's little sister screamed at his retreating back. "AND I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!" Oh yeah, Kyon had mentioned that she going through a rebellious phase lately...

Itsuki's mask had never been so abused. _Ha ha ha_... He made his way up to Kyon's room and opened the door.

Kyon's back was to it. It took a moment, but he turned around, propping his arm on the desk. Then he blinked uncomprehendingly at Itsuki and mouthed, _whah?_

Itsuki came back to himself. He was drenched in sweat. His hair was disheveled, and he had dropped his usual smile when he opened the door. It made him look…well, not blank, but definitely flat and slightly grim. He looked both exhausted and defeated.

Itsuki took one more step inside and closed the door behind him.

Kyon's eyebrows slammed into each other. "Back so soon?" Kyon said, lifting one eyebrow.

Itsuki nodded and slid down the door to the floor, with a slight thump.

Kyon tilted his head back in a manner that said clearly, _why does everyone come to me for answers?_

Itsuki stared back, haunted. _What _did_ I come here for?_

"All right." Kyon considered him, one arm dangling off the back of his chair, and returned to doing his homework. _Okay_. "When you're ready to talk, talk," he said bluntly, and turned his back to him.

Itsuki closed his eyes and drew his arms around his knees.


	5. Chapter 5: Mental Exhaustion

**Chapter Five: Mental Exhaustion**

Itsuki woke up in Kyon's room, still leaning against the door. Kyon was shaking him while he hissed, "Get up, get up, get up! Up, up!"

"Whaa...at?"

"You're lucky mum never asked questions about you," Kyon said. "She'd've had a fit I let you sleep like this. It's time for school."

Itsuki scrambled to his feet. "What? Oh no! What time is it?" He groaned, rubbing the crick in his neck and back from the odd sleeping position.

Kyon said cheerfully, "Two o'clock in the morning."

"You leave this early?" asked Itsuki in a half-whisper, eyes already drifting half-shut.

"On a Saturday, yes."

Itsuki narrowed his eyes, and then his mouth dropped open in shock. _School_..._is not today?_

His look was so comical. Kyon laughed. "I think this is the first time I've surprised you. Speaking of which, why are you suddenly opening up your true self now, I wonder?"

But with lack of sufficient stimulus, Itsuki's eyelids drooped and he crashed back to the floor, completely exhausted.

Kyon cocked his head. "It's okay, Mother already phoned your parents. Although I'm amazed she managed to find your home phone number, actually. Although I suppose it's in my cell phone..."

_What? Where did you get... and about what you said — 'true self...'_

"Go back to sleep, okay? You look really tired," said Kyon. "You'll get a crick in your neck sitting like that." Without further ado, he dragged Itsuki to a futon he had set out while Itsuki had been asleep, draped blankets over him, and turned out the light. Itsuki was powerless to resist. His muscles seemed to have taken on the consistency of chewed gum. So Itsuki glared at Kyon reproachfully, but unfortunately he could think of nothing to say that was quite satisfactory enough to address his situation. And his eyes kept drooping midglare.

Kyon said cheerfully, "Good night," and crawled into his own bed.

But after all that, Itsuki slept again. He must really have been ... very ... tired...

He got up at twelve noon, and stumbled into the living room. Kyon was there, reading a magazine, or watching TV, or perhaps doing both at once? No matter. Kyon, without lifting his eyes from whatever he was doing, pointed Itsuki to the kitchen and instructed him on what to eat and where to get it with a couple of short instructions.

Itsuki made his breakfast at the pace of a garden snail, and came back to the family room with his breakfast and sat down next to Kyon. Kyon turned off the TV, folded up the magazine, and rolled off the couch and onto the floor. He lay on his back on the floor, looking up at Itsuki.

This atmosphere was really strange, thought Itsuki, and ate a little faster.

"If you eat any faster, I think you'll choke," said Kyon, and languorously rolled over until he was on his stomach.

Itsuki glared at him, and ignored the remonstration.

For his part, Kyon was not quite sure if it had been a good idea to let Itsuki put his 'happy agreeable mask of nicety-niceness' back on. For one thing, he couldn't predict what Itsuki would talk about or where he should direct the conversation. Itsuki was at his least mysterious since he had transferred.

... Then again, Kyon had only just realized how much he didn't know about him.

Finally, Itsuki finished eating, and Kyon remembered what he had been about to say, and sat up. Okay, it was a stupid question, but — "Did you find out anything about Seira-tan? Ask anything?"

Itsuki felt the hair on the back of his neck rise again. He forced himself to nod, and asserted, "Yes. She actually is borrowed from _Blood Tunes_. Nishijou confirmed it."

"Thought so. And?"

"I think she's equivalent to Suzumiya's blue giants. On a smaller scale." Itsuki played with a loose strand of fiber in the carpet. Hm. What would he do if he succeeded in ripping it out?

"But?"

"She's intelligent. Unlike the blue giants, she's intelligent." Itsuki continued to rip at the carpet ferociously. "She's jealous of other women who seem to get close to Takumi and she's the root of his delusions. And she might as well have stabbed me in the heart."

Only a day ago, Kyon could not have imagined Itsuki voluntarily saying something so passionate and dramatic in his wildest dreams. It didn't suit him. Of course also it didn't suit him when he kept insinuating that Kyon should pick up his 'romance' with Suzumiya to appease her during Haruhi's endless summer time-loop. So Kyon attempted cautiously, "How... how so?"

Itsuki's gaze turned inward. "I can't really say, but she hit ... very close... to something that has been bothering me for a long time. She has intuition."

"What did she say?"

"Literally? She said, '_I like watching you sleep.' _"

"No wonder you were so tired." Kyon's tone was sympathetic, but neutral.

"No, the tiredness is on account of the space-bending. Suzumiya's is sporadic, and tricky in short spurts, but Nishijou's never ends. Nishijou's space twists continually, and consistently, in the direction of widdershins." Itsuki shrugged.

Kyon hugged his knees. "Yes, but that doesn't explain—why was that line so important to you? I don't understand."

"I don't know if I can explain." Itsuki mirrored Kyon's pose, wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in his arms. "Do you remember when you asked me something about whether looking after Suzumiya was a bother? Whether asleep or awake?"

"Yes…you remember it too? That was just before Nagato—you know… When Haruhi was planning her Christmas Festival. And you told me something to the effect of, 'yeah right, who would call it a bother? I'm happy to do it. I've been watching her since… blah blah bla-blah.' "

"You remember correctly."

"So what's the problem with what Seira-tan said?"

"The romantic implications of the line," Itsuki replied.

"Well, do you—" Kyon stopped.

Rather than reply, Itsuki put his head in his hands.

Suddenly angry, Kyon growled, "Hang on! You were always egging me on with Haruhi!"

Itsuki slumped forward. His hands crawled from his forehead to encase the back of his neck, gripping his head like a cage. "And so I hoist myself by my own petard," he murmured. "Forgive me."

Kyon's lips thinned, and he sat back. "Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised." He looked out the window, remembering what the parallel-Koizumi, the one who dated parallel-Haruhi, had said outright: "I'm jealous of you." Because Haruhi liked Kyon for being Kyon, for attracting odd people and things and events around him, and not because of a particular characteristic she had liked… This, in Itsuki's eyes, had indicated a deeper attraction. It was probable that this world's Itsuki thought the same way. The only problem was that Kyon wasn't interested in Haruhi.

Kyon had long ago decided that he was not in love with Haruhi, and never would be. He also knew that whatever kind of relationship they actually had would appear close, and might be easily mistaken for something it was not. It was also entirely possible that Haruhi was interested in, though he did not think "in love with," him.

No, he was concerned about this for Itsuki's sake. It was easy to see that this could wreck his fragile balancing act between his own desires, his agenda as an esper, and Haruhi Suzumiya's wishes — all that made his implacable, smiling mask necessary. Kyon felt no compulsion to tell Itsuki how he felt about Haruhi. Itsuki should know by now. What Itsuki had was a hope against hope that would crush his own happiness.

Kyon cleared his throat and decided to let the subject pass. "So you confronted an uncomfortable truth about yourself."

"Yes," Itsuki whispered. "That's it exactly."

Kyon nodded, and decided. "I won't press it, then. Did you see Seira-tan?"

Itsuki turned slightly pink. "No, I only heard her. Nishijou was the one who told me she appeared. Anyway. Other things to report–I have much the same relationship to them as I have with Suzumiya. I can see them, they can't see me when I'm invisible, but there's one who's a telepath; the rest couldn't sense me. I can also follow them even while they're bending space. It's probable that with a little warning, I could destroy Seira-tan the same way as I destroy the blue giants."

"Sounds right. Don't you need closed space, though?"

"Yes, but I think Nishijou may be generating an equivalent field without the exact parameters necessarily taking that closed space form. I need to look into it, though."

"Anything else you noticed?" said Kyon briskly.

"The other gigalomaniacs, besides Takumi, were girls."

"Hmmm. Like, Haruhi's a girl? So you think that Takumi is actually the strange one, because he's a boy? So maybe his disorder is the reason for his gigalomania, but it runs in girls, you mean?"

Itsuki shrugged. "Weird, isn't it?"

"It doesn't even count as a theory, and has no practical purpose, so let's leave it alone." Kyon rocked on his heels.

"There was NOZOMI." Itsuki told him about what the organization was.

Kyon didn't feel too surprised, although the organization added a whole other dimension to the possibilities they were piling up — that made his brain hurt. Fine. He stood to make his suggestion. "Let's do something else. Come to think of that, Haruhi left us a whole weekend to ourselves!"

"What do you have in mind, then?" Itsuki said, smiling slightly, and scrambling up.

"Nothing really. What would you like to do? I could take you to the ginger beer store."

"Sure. I'll buy this time."

"Whoa, you're generous today...but I don't need any, thanks. Should we call Asahina or Yuki?"

Itsuki shook his head. "Not today."

The corners of Kyon's mouth turned up. "All right then. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6: Distress Dreaming

**Chapter Six: Distress Dreaming**

For the rest of that day, Itsuki's reflexes were not what they once were. After their serious conversation about his feelings and Seira-tan, he dropped the smile and made no attempt to bring it back to functioning capacity. Kyon had often been annoyed by Itsuki, but he had never really felt worried about him. But now, Itsuki was grim, thoughtful, and not as talkative as usual. Furthermore, he was clumsy, walking into things and forgetting concepts and ideas that he should have known. It was as if he was fatigued, and didn't have the energy to be normal, and yet was relieved at being allowed _not_ to be himself.

They went to the American convenience store and Itsuki bought five ginger beers, wrote down the store's address, and then he walked with Kyon. They meandered through a couple of city parks. Kyon decided to go window shopping, and so they stopped by the manga, music, game, and convenience stores on their way home. Kyon suggested going out for karaoke, but Itsuki declined because of his terrible memory for lyrics; although he was a fairly good singer, Kyon didn't care either way. The next suggestion was a movie, but Itsuki had a headache and wasn't up for it. They went home, Kyon cooked dinner as his parents were out, and Itsuki fell asleep in the living room. Just as the night before, Kyon rolled Itsuki onto a futon, and went to bed in his own room.

* * *

In the night, there was an esper emergency, but Itsuki didn't have the energy to wake. Instead, he tossed and turned all night. The dull red flash of alarm persevered, following wherever he went in his dream, spewing electric blue sparks occasionally. Itsuki ignored it, but it weighed on him and fatigued him.

In the dream that Itsuki couldn't know was a dream because of the nature of dreams, Kyon appeared wherever he went, questioning, picking, prodding. Out of one room, into another, into a hall or out in a field, over and around, around he went. He turned the corner, and there was Haruhi, kissing Kyon before the blue giant. Sparks flew and electricity crackled and flowed around them, buzzing, hissing, and stinging Itsuki. No matter how frustrated he became, he could not break through, he could not be heard. So he hovered in his red levitation bubble, searching for a weak spot. Now Haruhi and Kyon were chattering amiably, though he could not tell what they said. Haruhi turned her head from Kyon's, freezing Itsuki with her gaze, and hissed Seira-tan's line: _I like watching you sleep_.

The blue giant gave Itsuki's red ball a solid knock, and the force field failed. In an instant, the blue giant's body collided into Itsuki. Itsuki's body dissolved from the electrical abuse, and he fell.

Next he knew, he was sitting at a table and Kyon sat across from him. Like a movie in slow-motion, Kyon reached across the table and shook him, shouting something Itsuki could not hear. Itsuki lunged and kissed Kyon on the lips; Kyon morphed into Haruhi, and she choked him mercilessly with her own special brand of electricity while screeching about respect and director's choice. The blue giants walked away and destroyed cities. Haruhi dropped Itsuki to the ground, and he found himself glued to the pavement, watching red orbs fly overhead, assaulting the giants while he was powerless to help.

It was strange, but Takumi took a seat nearby and helped him to his knees, though he still could not move. "It's my dream, too," said Takumi with his sad eyes, but Itsuki knew he lied; Takumi was a mere eavesdropper. In the flash of blue electricity, almost in the blink of an eye, Takumi appeared to be Ryoko Asakura. Kyon came by again. Without further ado, Takumi stood and reached into his coat, taking out what appeared to be stakes: a cross of metal, with a half circle bracing what appeared to be the "handle" of the stake. In an instant Itsuki almost knew what was about to happen. Takumi gripped the handles, drew back his hand, and impaled Kyon with the iron stakes. He flung another into Itsuki's eyes, and then all was black. He thought he heard rain.

Itsuki woke up in darkness with wet eyes. It was indeed raining. He heard it, and smelled it. The next time he slept, it was dreamless, and that was a relief.

Itsuki went home the next day. The espers' agency contacted him and offered to send a replacement for his place in the Brigade, but Itsuki simply refused their offer. That was the first time _that_ had happened. They still should have known better than to ask.

_Iron stakes?_

* * *

The next day Kyon remembered what he had forgotten to ask the day before. He called Itsuki.

"Hello? _Moshimoshi?_"

"It's Kyon. I had a question, about your conversation with Takumi—"

Itsuki uttered a terse, "Yes."

"Did you actually reveal yourself to him? Your powers, and so forth?" Kyon inquired.

"He knows that I have powers. He knows that I know things about Suzumiya that might apply to him," said Itsuki, and shifted the phone to his other ear. "He doesn't know what I am, or what specifically I can do, or even what I call myself, for that matter."

"Ah," Kyon breathed. "Well, for that matter, neither do I—know all of what you can do, I mean."

"You saw the blue giants, and the other-space."

"But besides that, I really don't know your capabilities."

"I'm not going to talk to him about it further. I would rather he knows as little about me as possible. So if you want me to reveal everything—"

Kyon cut his words off. "No, it's much better if you don't. I won't ask anything else of you to do with Takumi for now. Just use your best judgment."

A quiet breath, and then Itsuki said, "Thanks." The phone trembled in his hand.

"That was all I wanted to know," said Kyon apologetically. "Bye_._"

"_Sore ja_."

Kyon stared at the beeping phone in his hand, and then replaced it on the receiver.


	7. Chapter 7: Percentage Perception

**Chapter Seven: Percentage Perception**

They were in a classroom, alone. The lights were off, but the room's windows provided more than enough light, and the room was so quiet that a pin could have been heard to drop, if not for the slight soughing of the wind outside as it scuffed the windows. Yuki Nagato sat in a chair with a book in her lap, the pages open to the still air. Itsuki sat opposite her.

Yuki Nagato listened to Itsuki's story of his dreams without expression. She blinked occasionally, but otherwise, her face stayed perfectly composed and symmetrical.

That did not matter. Itsuki rarely talked to Nagato, but whenever he did, he felt somewhat more at peace. Nagato never visibly panicked. Usually Itsuki didn't panic either, and his emotions were usually on the bright side, but these days were different for him. And it always helped that he didn't have to put up such an _effort_ to feel that peace.

Yuki blinked once more and said, "Your dream." She never asked why people told her things.

Itsuki nodded. "I thought, since the school fair when you made those predictions, that you might be able to help me with a thorny problem."

"It is true that dreams are often used to predict the future."

"Yes, but that is not the use I have for this one," said Itsuki tensely. Even if Nagato never laughed, the fear that she would find his question unscientific and utterly ridiculous made him nervous. In the past, Itsuki had not shared his theories about Suzumiya with her, although Kyon usually enlisted her help to put his theories into effect. "You used probabilities to make your predictions at the school fair, didn't you? Similarly...perhaps you could apply the principle of the probabilities to dreams."

Yuki simply cocked her head, an uncharacteristically inquisitive gesture.

"Dreams are made of memories, aren't they?"

Yuki's eyes abruptly blanked as she contacted the Data Overmind. They colored again, and she said, "A certain percentage."

Itsuki frowned. "Then the percentage must depend on the dream, or on the person."

Yuki nodded. "Permission to review your memories?"

Itsuki froze. He had a sinking feeling that Yuki had just skipped several steps in her reasoning...

"It is logical," said Yuki, softly. "You wish to see how much of your dream was memory and how much was imagination, correct?"

Itsuki felt slightly stunned, because he could not believe that Yuki had been completely emotionless when she said that. He recovered. "Yes. And also, how much of my esper perceptions were involved at the time."

Yuki closed her eyes, opened them. "_Wakarimashita. _I understand. The Data Overmind has given me the information that is needed to interpret this. Permission?" She held out her hands.

Hesitantly, Itsuki said, "Yes."

She stood, and took one step closer to Itsuki, who was sitting down, and cupped her hands over his ears.

Immediately he could hear his heart beating, and felt it race correspondingly in his chest, and then he heard a roaring — the echo of his heart in his ears. His eyes rolled up in his head and he couldn't see; and then it was over. The mad rush of thought activity, almost like the stirring of a great wind, was over. Yuki took her hands away, and Itsuki slumped forward and opened his eyes.

Yuki's brown eyes were expressionless. "Thirty-two point seven percent is memory. Forty-five point two percent is imagination. Twenty-two point one percent of your dream was produced as a result of esper perceptions."

Itsuki frowned. The actual numbers weren't exactly as helpful as he thought it would be... "Can you tell which parts of the dream were influenced by which parts of my mind?"

"Affirmative." Yuki tipped her head forward.

"How about the part when Haruhi and Kyon kissed in front of that blue giant?"

"Sixty-five percent memory. Thirty-five percent imagination. No esper ability."

"Then, what about the iron stakes?"

Yuki's eyelids slid halfway down before they sprang back up and she answered. "Seventy-five percent esper ability. Twenty percent imagination—background data only. Five percent memory. Five-percent memory is below the normal range, and pertained only to the setting of the event, which was sparse."

Well. Itsuki sat back in his chair, and held his hand poised over his nose and forehead as he thought. Finally he relaxed, and asked. "Are these figures statistically significant?"

Yuki nodded once, and sat back down.

"Disturbing," Itsuki murmured, and resumed his thoughtful pose. "That idea wasn't mine."

Yuki shook her head.

"Yuki-chan. If you could, would you search local news for incidents involving iron stakes?"

"Searching for iron stakes in recent news reports. Fifteen articles found related to recent New Generation murders," said Nagato, in her habitual soft voice. "Also known as New Gen. They are dated from several months ago. There are top-secret reports and improper amateur detective work filings. Shall I look into those?"

Kyon would probably have refused her request, but Itsuki didn't have such qualms. "Go right ahead. Knock yourself out." What were these New Gen murders? Itsuki had never heard of them.

"Cross-referencing with most likely areas of interest." Yuki paused. "Takumi Nishijou is listed as a possible suspect in the murders, due to a suspicious amount of possible previous knowledge about them in his internet logs. One young woman accused him of having two identities to be able to commit the murders, submit the data to himself, and had the other forget his involvement."

Itsuki rose to his feet so quickly that the spindly, portable brown classroom chair collapsed and fell to the ground behind him. "Truth?"

"I do not lie," said Yuki asserted, and a faint troubled vertical line appeared in the middle of her forehead, which was as near to reproach as she could get. "However, there are several data files that appear to contain information that would contradict the claim made by the first reports." She added, "Such as the fact that the same young lady withdrew her claim later on."

"And how much of that is corporate and government bureaucracy trying to protect an underage minor?" Itsuki muttered. "Although I can also see why NOZOMI would want the kid taken out..."

"Organizations are not known for protecting weak individuals. As for NOZOMI, it is a radical religious group." Yuki blinked at him. "His socioeconomic status suggests that none of those factors are involved. He has no influential family, no significant monetary sources, and no allies. In fact, he has not been summoned to the police facility even once."

Itsuki found this to be bizarre.

"There are significant contradictions in the data," said Yuki. "And multiple errors. I shall keep searching. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

Itsuki thought his heart would stop. Had Yuki ever thanked anyone before? Surely? But — no. "I thought you did not understand Earth culture," said Itsuki, cautiously.

Nagato's eyes became shadowed. "No. It is perfectly natural. Kyon taught a little to me."

"I thought it had something to do with Earth's culture being unintelligible to beings without emotions. Especially beyond the niceties." Itsuki frowned. "It does not have anything to do with the strange incidents lately? The last time loop, for example? Your late disappearance?"

Yuki didn't answer that one. In fact, she acted like she hadn't even heard.

Itsuki sighed. "I'll get the real story out of Kyon someday, you know."

"I understand," said Yuki stiffly, and the off-wind ruffled the pages of the book in her lap. She closed the book, picked it up, and stood. "Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Itsuki echoed, and they parted ways. The sun was setting, and the sky was red; they hurried home. Looked like esper-business weather. The wind was extra strong, like a storm was coming, the air vibrating with a taut electric hum.


	8. Chapter 8: Burdens of Memory

**Chapter Eight: Burdens of Memory**

Yuki Nagato went to school the next day like usual. Her homework was complete, as usual. She ate her own lunch, which was _bento_, as usual. She had a new book to read, as usual. And she went to the Brigade Club, as usual.

It had become slightly more difficult than usual to actually read the book, however. Yuki felt phantom pains in her legs from sitting so long in one position. Knowing that they were not real, however, kept her from swatting or shifting them for relief.

It had been this way ever since that incident last summer, when she had endured Haruhi Suzumiya's reiterations of the last single week of summer vacation 15,524 times. That was 594 years, approximately, of the same week with tiny changes, over and over. A lesser being would have tried to end their existence, though the effort would be futile. According to her supervisor, the Data Integration Thought Entity, however, Yuki had accumulated enough errors to produce emotions. What was most distressing was that Yuki couldn't catch the errors that had allegedly produced them — and the phantom pains persisted.

She had tried to fix the situation once by borrowing Suzumiya's powers and making herself into a real human, but Kyon had stopped her. She did not dare try again. Besides, she had gotten what she needed: her own protection. Kyon deemed her necessary, and the Data Integration Thought Entity would not terminate her. Yuki could not understand what it was that Kyon wanted. Did he approve of her emotions? Was that why he had saved her? And yet he had returned from the world in which she had them as a real girl. And yet she thought sometimes that he seemed to hope that the feelings would flourish again. Yuki deferred to his better judgment in Earth matters, but she could not comprehend his feelings, and the stray thoughts niggled at her in tiny starbursts.

At present, there was no real danger of becoming like Ryoko Asakura because of the errors. She had gone through all the logical checks and steps, and could not see her programming becoming so flawed. Moreover, Yuki was still confident that she could still best any unit equal to Ryoko Asakura's abilities. The errors should not compromise her ability to fulfill her duty to Suzumiya and the Data Integration Thought Entity.

Despite that, the error margin in her judgment was still disquietingly large to her. A mere percent—a reasonably small change—but it could mean the difference of a world. Was it inevitable, this change? How much damage could she sustain before she was at risk of breaking down like Asakura, who had broken irrevocably without prior warning? These answers could not be answered with the available data. Like a squeaky wheel in a hamster cage, part of her mind continually searched for that data, searching and searching, without cease.

Her book trembled imperceptibly in her hands, and she turned the page.

She lifted her head to scan the club room. Kyon was absent today. Itsuki was there. Mikuru was there. Tamaki Nishijou was there. Haruhi was there.

She lowered her head and turned another page.

Nearing the end of the meeting, Yuki began to search for the information that Itsuki had requested. It was a more thorough search than she had done for him in the classroom yesterday. For one thing, she wanted to root out all the inconsistencies that had been glaringly apparent in the accounts of the New Generation murders. On the other hand, all the confusion led to the sudden conviction of an odd partnership: the assistant investigating detective and a hospital nurse. They had been dating.

Human accounts differed greatly from neutral data sources. And the human accounts differed from each other. According to her analysis, the difference was greater than usual from the typical difference between eyewitness accounts, including Takumi's own.

There seemed to be no logical reason for it. She judged that the likelihood of Suzumiya's involvement in it was low; the murders had occurred in a different district of the city.

Perhaps Takumi could clarify, but from the reports, at the time he had no more a clear idea of what had happened than a resuscitated person knew of what happened on the shore whilst in the process of drowning.

There was truth, Yuki was sure; it was not available to her. Perhaps Kyon could clarify. He had not divulged what he had learned from Takumi quite yet, and it was her turn to speak to Takumi. She took Kyon by the hand and led him outside the Brigade classroom and into the hall, and questioned him. To be precise, she requested a summary of all that had transpired between Kyon, Takumi, and Itsuki beforehand.

Kyon told her, and she took it all in wordlessly and nodded her thanks. What she learned was not surprising. There were more holes to be fixed in their knowledge banks. If not for Itsuki's dream—fairly randomly assimilated data—the New Generation murders would not have been put together with Takumi.

She was the one who must untangle the mystery. The others did not have the memory, the capacity, or the access to do it. Kyon and Itsuki had managed to put pieces together to reveal Suzumiya's identity to Takumi, and uncovered some of Takumi's identity, but in this area—his background—they had not progressed at all.

Yuki returned to the classroom with a letter for Takumi. Takumi, casting a nervous glance at her expressionless face, opened the letter and read it. Takumi folded up the letter and looked her in the eyes. "Today?" he asked.

"Yes," said Yuki. She picked up her school bag, bowed to Haruhi, and opened the door, ushering Takumi ahead of her. Itsuki, deep in an Othello game with Takumi, started out of his reverie with a jerk and stared at her. Kyon pointedly caught Itsuki's eye, conveying some wordless human form of communication. Yuki gave them a small nod and went through the door herself, letting it close behind her softly.

Inexplicably, Suzumiya had not lifted up her head, she was so absorbed in the computer, but door's soft _click_ brought her back to her senses. Suzumiya loudly chattered, harangued, and interrogated the other club members as Yuki proceeded down the hall. Apparently satisfied with the answer that came, quiet came back soon.

Yes, Suzumiya was indeed calming down, and Yuki could not afford to speculate on what that might mean. To be exact, she did know that she was thirty percent less excitable and fifty percent more tractable than last year by human standards.

As she had with Kyon, Yuki led Takumi to her private apartment and made him for tea. Takumi was even more puzzled by what to do with the tea than Kyon had been. It was a politeness, of course, so Yuki ignored it when Takumi left his first cup half full and set it down to begin the conversation. On second thought, she wasn't sure that would be in keeping with Japanese etiquette. She refilled it.

Takumi's eyes drooped. Yuki wondered what kind of thing that expression meant on a human face, and replaced the teapot.

"Ah. Ahm," said Takumi. "Er."

Yuki blinked at him.

Takumi glanced at the walls, and the floors, and the table. It was all pristine: the windows were clear, the floor was bare, the walls had no hangings or paintings or photos to interrupt the blank sheetrock, and the table was an inscrutable glossy ebony. It was nighttime, so the room was dark except for a single light on the ceiling. Takumi had never seen a room so minimal, yet tasteful. It was not stark enough to qualify as Spartan.

"Drink," said Yuki, gesturing to the cup.

Takumi took a sip and put it down again, feeling chastised.

Yuki decided this must be her cue to start conversation. "Do you know who I am?"

Takumi looked down, shoulders slumped. "Nagato Yuki. You're the last literary club member."

"Yes," said Yuki. "Do you know what I am?"

Takumi was sure it wasn't "high school student" or "human" so he shook his head unhappily.

"You could call me an alien. I am actually an astral being, a projection of the Data Integration Thought Entity known as a humanoid interface, a gobetween for the Entity with other human beings."

"The... Data Integration Thought Entity?" said Takumi, flabbergasted.

"It may also be called the Data Overmind," Yuki supplied.

"Okay," said Takumi, utterly muddled and confused.

Yuki said, hoping to fill in the gaps, "Kyon believes that you are a gigalomaniac, and you have the explanation that most fits Suzumiya."

"Oh."

"The Data Overmind suffused through the universe since it began, and grew more powerful with the data that was created, for it is the accumulation and sentience of information itself. It is interested in Suzumiya Haruhi because she generates data at an extraordinary rate that could boost the evolution of the human race, which is the only organic life-form to organize and store data for the future."

Takumi looked bleak. "And it's the same with me?"

"My data sensors register higher than normal levels of data generation around you, but they do not rival Suzumiya's in size or scale."

"Fair enough," said Takumi, venturing a slight, tired smile.

"It would be helpful to observe your powers in the future for comparison," said Yuki, blinking.

"Thank you. If I happen to, you'll see." Takumi looked miserable.

"Question," said Yuki.

"Yes?"

"Is the manifestation of your powers based on need?"

"Uuuuuhm. Sort of. If I feel desperate enough, or wish badly enough, I can do it consciously."

"And unconsciously?"

Takumi was silent for a while. "Things happen. I'm not sure why they happen, but they're not normal, and I don't _think_ I have control over it. It's not strange enough to definitely not be real, but not normal either."

"Like the gigalomaniac girls with the D-Swords?" Takumi was a little surprised that Yuki could say it with a totally straight face.

"No. They taught me that I was a gigalomaniac myself; they themselves were real. It was the delusions."

"Like Seira-tan?"

"I wouldn't admit it for a while, but I always knew she wasn't real. Although I slipped up and talked about her to other people sometimes. It _is_ kind of the same with the delusion-fantasies."

Yuki cocked her head. "_Because_ of Seira-tan?"

Takumi shrugged miserably. "Perhaps."

It must be an internal struggle that set off gigalomaniacs, Yuki reasoned. Suzumiya Haruhi was bored; Nishijou Takumi lacked confidence, so he couldn't cope with the world, especially girls. So they made their worlds to meet their demands of it, unconsciously, and expressed their frustration through dead spaces that affected no one but themselves. Takumi's quasi-real girls — did they exist before, or after him? — sounded like Haruhi's gathering of the Brigade, who all sounded suspiciously like what Haruhi wanted to find, and yet had their own existences independent of Haruhi's mind. It fit. Yuki was not afraid to admit that her existence was possibly unnatural, disconnected with the world.

But another thing had taken her attention.

When she talked to Kyon like this, she stuffed the extra data that he wouldn't absorb verbally into the cracks of his brain—pictorially, sensorially, with music and other effects that he couldn't feel at the time — he probably did not even realize he had them. But Takumi hadn't taken to it. The extra information kept sliding off.

Finally she understood why. He was _generating_ data. Like predictions, his brain took Yuki's words and generated repercussions, interpretations, images, perceptions. It was more than what he was consciously feeling right now. He was so utterly saturated with data, he couldn't accept any more information or perception. If this was so for Takumi, it would be more so for Suzumiya, if the theory was right.

Yuki blinked again, assimilating the information. Oh, yes. She had to ask him about the New Gen murders. Briefly, she considered how to broach the topic, then ventured, "You met Koizumi-kun?"

Takumi nodded. "He's an esper, under the right circumstances."

"Yes. In the space that is changed by a gigalomaniac, he has some powers." Yuki touched the teapot's handle. "We were able to collaborate to uncover some information about you that neither of us could pick up ourselves, which connected you to the New Generation murders in Shibuya."

Takumi froze and seemed to shrink until he was half his size. "Aaah...ah," he said.

Yuki poured herself a cup of tea. Takumi certainly wasn't going to drink any more. "That was at the time when you discovered that you were a gigalomaniac."

"Yes. I began having delusions that were visible to others. I witnessed one of the murders—I think; an online acquaintance sent me pictures of them. That was the shogun. One of the girls accused me of having multiple personalities, one of which was committing the murder and showing data to me."

"It does not appear that your accuser's hypothesis is true," said Yuki. "The neurological anomalies that ought to be present in such an eventuality are not present," she said, and took a sip of tea.

Takumi stared at her goggle-eyed, then slumped so far that he banged his head on the black matte table. It was harder than he thought, and the shock made his eyes water.

Yuki looked on, expressionless, but curious. _Too much information at once. He hadn't realized this before..._ Indeed, half of the problem was Takumi's own confused interaction with logic, which led to erratic reports. Amazing that he _hadn't_ been arrested, but the police found another culprit by the time they had gotten interested in him.

"Perhaps the images were results of your imagination," Yuki suggested, "and the numbers of your internet logs were misrepresented."

Takumi shook his head. "No. The shogun sent them to me."

"Who is the shogun?"

"You could say that I am a mirror of him. He was the original gigalomaniac, the first one, and he made me to be his copy. He was trying to help me discover the secrets of NOZOMI, but he knew he would die before he could complete his work."

Yuki dipped her head.

Takumi groaned. "Sending me the pictures — it didn't work. After he showed me, I got paranoid. It felt like everyone was coming after me! There were artifacts everywhere, especially those stakes. I kept seeing them. I had to get a D-Sword, but I couldn't even manifest one. Remember the phrase that got really popular around that time?"

Yuki shook her head mutely.

" '_Sono me dare no me_.' 'Those eyes — whose eyes?' That one. Everyone said it. Everyone wrote it. It was all because of that singer. But I came up with it first. I made it up to cope when I felt everyone's eyes on me as a kid." Takumi stopped talking. _That bus incident_—whose memory—the shogun's?

Yuki shook her head again. "Which singer?"

"FES," Takumi answered. "Or Ayase. That's another name of hers. She went to my school, and tried to kill herself once, because she was a gigalomaniac. I wished for a flowerbed for her to fall into, and she lived."

A truly unlikely event. Yuki ran a quick internet search. "12,567,432 mentions of this phrase." And she could not remember coming across it even once. Takumi shivered. "However, it does not matter now. They made an arrest. The detective's assistant and the nurse at the hospital."

"Yeah. I remember them. There were some run-ins."

"They were not connected with NOZOMI?"

"No. I suppose it's suspicious that they killed my doctor, though." Takumi winced.

"Your motive could be there, but the knowledge of how to do the crimes was absent. It required more medical expertise than high school students possess. The nurse is more likely as a suspect."

Takumi nodded. "The murders were dealt with. NOZOMI is still active."

She was thought so too. "We can end this now. I can examine your memories."

"If you do anything untoward to me, I will reflect it back on you," said Takumi, warningly. "Although, I would rather you had asked me before all the questions..." Before he knew it, she was standing over him.

"Quite." Yuki placed her hands over his ears.

Takumi experienced the mind-reading differently than Koizumi had. For him, it was like a tape recording being wound backwards. The tape spun so fast that it burned, but it was over in an instant, while bands of white and black swept quickly over his vision until it reached a rattling red stripe. The world winked out for an instant and came back. Yuki was done.

"This matter has been made clear to me. Thank you for your cooperation," said Yuki, standing.

Takumi stood as well, murmured his own niceties, and left.


	9. Chapter 9: Could Have Been

**Chapter Nine: Could Have Been**

Yuki sent Mikuru a quick call to tell her that it was Mikuru's turn to speak with the new kid, but said little else. As far as Yuki was concerned, telling Mikuru of what she had learned could become a liability—especially since the past was a non-issue. There was no need for her to know. So Mikuru, knowing nothing of Takumi's oddly patchy past, had no suspicions at all, except for a lingering distrust for his distracted moods.

Mikuru's adult self, Mikuru-sama, was not so blasé.

"Tch! _Kuso_!" She paced outside Mikuru-chan's apartment, under the window, where Mikuru would not see her. "That boy! I was such an idiot! Can't do anything about it now. Last time turned out for the best, but the higher-ups probably won't approve of my doing anything for personal reasons. Even Kyon's attention was better than that. Utterly humiliating!" She stomped the green dampened earth impulsively. If only her younger self could have been more assertive!

_You know you can't wish for that. Haruhi wanted you as you were, when you were still that way._

Hearing her, Mikuru-chan looked out the window, and Mikuru-sama had to duck. _I'll just have to watch her from afar_, Mikuru-sama decided, and prepared for a stake-out.

* * *

Young Mikuru suggested a trip out, and Haruhi decided on the old standby: supernatural-spotting. Before Haruhi could conscript his money and donate it to her favorite restaurant, Kyon forced Itsuki to buy the meal as repayment for the ginger beers. Just as planned.

They drew straws. As planned, Mikuru selected Takumi's straw and Itsuki drew Yuki's straw, while Kyon and Haruhi were left over as a team. The nice thing about having six members was that everyone could be easily paired into two groups of three, or three groups of two. To Kyon's curiosity, Haruhi was not as interested in the Takumi-Mikuru pair as she had been in him and Mikuru. Come to think of it, she was positively eager to pair off Itsuki and Mikuru in the past... Like that would ever happen.

Yuki blinked at Kyon over Itsuki's shoulder, and they walked away — probably towards the library. Mikuru beckoned Takumi to follow her, and they went deeper into the shopping district.

They were gone. Alone with Haruhi... Laughing nervously, Kyon turned to face her.

She was serious. Luckily she hadn't seen his face, or she would have ruined the expression. It hit him again that he was alone with Haruhi, just the two of them together, reminding him of that time on the mystery island, on the cliff. Kyon swallowed hard. "They're gone, Haruhi. What do you want to do?"

Stupid question. "Look for paranormal phenomena," Haruhi announced, _obviously_, and tossed her hair. For a moment she recaptured a little gleam in her eye, but it dimmed almost immediately when she turned anxious and thoughtful.

Nothing wrong with that. A serious Haruhi he could deal with... he thought.

"Shall we walk, then?"

"We'll go to the park," Haruhi said firmly, and set off, not expecting protest. There wasn't any. Kyon followed.

* * *

Mikuru sat down on the bus bench, and Takumi sat beside her. At first he felt a little uncomfortable that he couldn't see her face— No, actually, he was glad that he wouldn't have to look at her. He didn't want Seira-tan getting out, or making him see things...

Mikuru coughed to get his attention. "Um. Takumi-san. I have something to tell you."

"I see. What is it?"

"I am a future person."

Takumi's eyebrows drew together. "What kind of future person? A person from the future? Or a person's future self? Or..."

"A person from the future, of course." Mikuru laughed a little.

"I see."

"Yes. Although, come to think of it, you aren't asking questions like Kyon did..."

Takumi shrugged. "Maybe I've come to expect it. Kyon told me your theories. Something about the world not having a past beyond three years ago, because of Haruhi Suzumiya."

Mikuru nodded. "That's right."

"And you don't want that future to change."

"Right. We would like to access the past as well, but, well, there's nothing we can do now."

"I see," said Takumi. "There's nothing very hard to understand about it."

"Right?!" Mikuru squealed. "No one is ever surprised when I do things."

"Ah, well, it's not that you're not interesting," said Takumi, grimacing like an idiot, "it's just, I've known such stranger things myself..."

"Like what?" said Mikuru, with sudden interest.

"Er," said Takumi, put off balance. "Well, like that..." He trailed off into silence. He was thinking of his experience with NOAH II, which had to have been the most painful experience of his whole life — _I'm still sorry that Reimi had to watch the meltdown. What kind of guy was I, back then? So weak. _"It's not a story that you'd tell a girl, I guess." He flushed. _Ah, I just said something so stupid... as if girls couldn't handle it equally..._

She had the right to be annoyed by that comment, but Mikuru didn't seem to take offense. "Too violent?" she ventured innocently.

Takumi flushed a deeper red. "In a matter of speaking. The machine toys with your perceptions. It tried to control me. Once I knew how, I broke it — but I'll never forget what it tried to make me do. I mean, tried to make me think that I did. Sorry. I still get confused."

"Ah. I see." Mikuru's voice was soft. "I think I understand, a little."

"Do you?"

"Yes." Mikuru lowered her head. "When I came to this time... I didn't know what I was doing. What I _would_ be doing, I mean. I've never told anyone else this before, but I thought maybe I could use the experience to write a book about this point in time when I return. So I will. If you can imagine, time-traveling is sort of equivalent to your, how do you call it, exchange programs. But there were more requests made of me than I could ever imagine."

"Yeah."

"For one thing, Haruhi Suzumiya." Mikuru's posture slumped, and she brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Who could have thought I would have to submit so completely to a person like that...? And out of all people, why me?"

Takumi shifted on the bench. "This is not may place...but I'd like to ask...do you hate her?"

Mikuru tipped her head forward. "No. No. Somehow... not really." She looked at Takumi and smiled resolutely, although with a touch of wear. "Strange, isn't it? That I don't resent her for forcing me to do things all the time?"

"Yeah."

"But without her I don't think I would have done as much as I have. Even though I'm a spoilt person from the future... even if I am a useless person, she still wants me to do things."

"Kyon might say that your life would be peaceful without her interest," said Takumi neutrally.

"Kyon _would_ say that, but he feels the same as me, inside. Otherwise he wouldn't come to the club every day. The problem is, he sees me as a victim." She laughed breathily, hah_-haauh._ "_He_ is her victim, too, but in a different way: always cleaning up after Suzumiya and the routine coincidences that follow her around. That's magnetism for you. So he's right. But I am not her slave, either, and he always interferes with the worst of it when he has the chance."

"Are you sure? Did the future society imply it sent you in order to play the role of her servant?"

Mikuru shook her head. "I don't know what would happen to the world if I stood up to Suzumiya-san. Maybe something, maybe nothing. But I don't even know if I want to, yet." She smiled at him again. "That's what Kyon thinks I should do, I know. He hates himself because he can't stand up for me all the time—it would be in _our_ best interest if we both stood up to her more. Maybe not for her peace of mind, that's the problem. Poor Koizumi-kun. That's why he doesn't want any of us to protest too much. But I don't think it would be the _end_ of the world. Because Suzumiya chose _us_, not our organizations. And she must be able to adapt to what we had determined to do from within ourselves."

"Yes."

"But I can't bring myself to do it. I may cry and protest feebly, but the truth is, I let Haruhi do what she wants. Because... I guess... I want to see what will happen."

"Yeah."

"That's the truth. There's really no need for me to be so restrained here, in the past (your present). I can take risks, and I can go back to the future without problems. We've proven that our existences don't affect fate unduly in a way that creates paradoxes unless there are two or more selves present... So I don't need to fear the rules so much— But I end up feeling stifled anyway. Maybe it's my upbringing as a future person. Maybe I'm weak, having to rely on someone like Suzumiya-san to make my days interesting."

Takumi tipped his head skywards before he replied, "No, I don't think so. You must have a lot of trust in her."

Mikuru's lips curved upwards. "It's not trust, exactly. I know, when I walk into a room with Suzumiya, that she could take me somewhere I would never have thought of going, and I won't have any control over it."

That was pretty much the opposite of Seira-tan's possessive attitude, Takumi thought. She always wanted him to stay home. "I never see this side of you in the classroom, though," he ventured.

Mikuru shook her head. "No. For some reason, I have trouble communicating to Kyon-kun... Also, I prefer that Suzumiya doesn't think of me as her equal. I often disagree with Koizumi-kun, so I think it's easier if he doesn't suspect that I might change. Yuki doesn't say what she thinks... she probably accepted the pattern of our relationship and never questioned it."

"So the real question is, if you felt that you had to stand up to Suzumiya-san for real, could you do it and make it stick?" Takumi intuited.

"If I felt strongly enough, yes. I would find a way," said Mikuru confidently, then faltered. "Except, every time I come close to proving it for myself, Kyon rescues me anyway. I'm grateful, of course... but I won't _know_ until I try for myself, will I? That's what I realized."

Takumi nodded. "So will that day ever come?"

"Will it, indeed?" asked Mikuru softly. Then her head swiveled with a jerk and her eyes grew big. "Did you hear something?" she asked Takumi. Takumi shook his head. Mikuru stared intently into the trees opposite the way.

* * *

They had neared the playground. "Kyon, I've been thinking."

Uh-oh.

Falsely bashful, Haruhi said, "Did you, by any chance, have a dream on ..." She rattled off the date.

At first Kyon didn't register the significance of the question. "How would I know? Do you write down your dreams every morning or something?" asked Kyon irritably. "Of course I can't remember that far back! That was half a year ago! I don't think of time in dates either, you know!..."

She pouted right back at him. "Mph," she said, and sped forward. But then she slowed, kicking rocks over the rough pavement long enough for Kyon to easily catch up. "Maybe I left it too late," she muttered. "Half a year. I guess it's strange to bring up a dream from half a year ago, isn't it?"

This was Haruhi, actually attempting to think from the perspective of her fellow human beings? Commendable. But Kyon wasn't going to pass the opportunity up to clarify things between himself and Haruhi, so he snapped, "Yes, it's pretty strange. But if it's so important, just spit it out and say it clearly!"

"Fine," Haruhi huffed, but she paused extra long, thinking, until finally she said, "In my dream, you were in it."

"Sure," said Kyon, evasively. And suddenly he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what Haruhi was talking about.

Haruhi lengthened her stride, and Kyon only had just enough height to match hers without straining his stamina. "It was just the two of us in the club room at school. There were these blue electric monsters. Beings. Giants? They kept destroying the city. I keep dreaming of them, although I don't have as many dreams of them as before I started the Brigade." Okay, Kyon definitely knew what she was talking about. But this was interesting. The Brigade _was_ doing its job, it seemed. Had Itsuki noticed? He wondered. "The giants started in the direction of the school. You grabbed my hand," she demonstrated, "and led me out onto the plaza."

"Okay. What happened next?" said Kyon, curious to see what she would say.

He would be disappointed. Haruhi might not have any shyness about nudity or dating, but actual romance, when it pertained to herself and when she wasn't in control, was another issue. She scowled at him. "If you had the dream, you should know what happened next. Did you see it with me or not?!"

A fair point. Kyon still wanted to bait her, though. "Why do you think I saw it with you?"

"It happens sometimes," said Haruhi. "People dream together. I read it in a book. Also, it felt more real than my other dreams. It was — it was really frightening."

Kyon didn't think he had seen any fright on Haruhi's face at that time, but there was no telling what was in her head. "Not everything that's printed is true," Kyon sighed, but he relented. "Yes. I was there. This one giant approached, heading straight for us, and -" he waited for Haruhi to fill in the blank, but she only glared at him; he finished the rest of the sentence too quickly "- we kissed."

With expert timing, Haruhi sneezed. "Excuse me?"

Now Kyon was turning red. That was _not_ supposed to happen. Youth! Hormones! What did adults know about it anymore? Karma had come back to bite him. "We kissed." They passed the playground by in what seemed like a blur.

Haruhi was already in high gear for her stride. The only way to kick up speed was to start running. So she took one huge stride, then another, and she ran, head down, into the wind, straight up the next hill, yelling the whole way. Heads turned.

Swearing, Kyon ran after her, calling out apologies, dodging around people and weaving about frantically in her wake. What mystical ability granted Haruhi the ability to run in a straight line whenever she pleased? Couldn't he please have it too?

Luckily, Haruhi had exhausted herself at the top of the hill, while Kyon still had some energy left. He stood tall while she bent over, panting, "I don't...do...hills..." So said the North High girls' track star.

"Nonsense," said Kyon, folding his arms. "You're just better at sprinting. Where's your endurance?" _Don't do that again. I'll lose you._

Haruhi took a lazy swipe at Kyon's legs, but he jumped out of the way, just in time. "Who needs endurance to win flat-out sprints?" Haruhi shot back, and straightened.

The people downhill they had passed were staring at them, Kyon noticed suddenly. It bothered him. "C'mon. Let's talk about this somewhere else."

"If you like," said Haruhi, for once being agreeable. They retreated under the shade of a tree. Then Haruhi started talking first. "So you were in my dream. Why were you there?"

"How should I know?" Kyon grumbled. "It's not like that was my secret wish, or anything."

"Oh," said Haruhi, and turned slightly pink. That made it all worth it. She hunched her shoulders. "Did you, er, mean it?" She squirmed.

"The kiss?" Kyon asked, for clarification. She nodded tersely. "Yes, and no."

"Well, say what you mean!"

Oh, dear. How to explain it without alluding to the whole rest of the Brigade? "You might say it was an intuition, then. I knew we had to get out of that space. You were spouting nonsense about starting a new world with only two people in it — do you remember that? — and I didn't want to be a part of it. I quite like the world the way it is, thank you very much." _And life with just you in it would be a headache and a handful. Talk about stress, Itsuki. _"And then I knew that if I ever wanted to get out of there, I had to, um, make you interested in the real world. I meant for it to work; I didn't mean for you to get ideas. It was a dream anyway. Do you see?"

Haruhi's eyes turned flat and her mouth was unimpressed. "No, I don't see. How does that have anything to do with the real world?"

"I don't know why it worked," Kyon insisted. "I told you, it was an intuition. But it did work. And if it hadn't, your blue giant would've creamed us."

"_MY blue giant?_" Haruhi screeched. Like she didn't have any control over it. (Maybe she didn't. All subconscious.) Well, if so, why wasn't she afraid of it then?

"But those belong to _your_ dreams, right?" said Kyon peevishly. "I sure don't have any in mine. Anyway, I didn't have any time. You can't talk that fast in all the world."

Haruhi's eyes turned inwards, and she admitted reluctantly, "Yes, I guess that makes sense."

"At least you shouldn't take it as an indication of romantic interest."

"I see," said Haruhi, and turned her back on him. "You don't have any romantic interest in me at all. Is that final?"

Kyon turned Haruhi back around to face him, and stared into her eyes. He always knew that Haruhi was attractive. Life with her would be exciting and above all, never boring. But the endless back and forth: the snarking, the bickering; no, that would never stop either. No matter how much she respected him in her head, he didn't want to be constantly bossed around by her. _Yes_, g_o ahead, give up on me already. I am your friend forever_. He decided. "Yes. It's final."

Haruhi closed her eyes and sighed her annoyance loudly with a small lift of her shoulders. "Fine. Friends?" She stuck out her hand, and Kyon shook it. Haruhi let go and wiped her sweaty forehead. "Not that I care. My first rejection!" Deep in irritation, Kyon thought, _Was that really something to be proud of?— No, none of her past boyfriends lasted long enough to call it off before she did, did they._ "Two-timer!" _And who, exactly, am I two-timing?_ "Ah, never mind! _Mou ii!_" Haruhi shouted, waving her hands dramatically.

Haruhi was back to normal.

...Except, she calmed down awfully fast...

A cool breeze swept through and blew the chattering, excitable thoughts out of her head, and she turned to gaze at the sunset. She dropped her head to rest on her chest, and murmur softly, almost too quietly to be heard, "But sometimes, I wish..." And she whispered wistfully, linking one hand with his, "_Sometimes, I wish you really ... you really were ... John Smith_."

When he thought about it that way, a lump formed in Kyon's throat and he squeezed her hand. _Yeah. Yeah, me too_, he thought, though he couldn't say it out loud. A bit of nostalgia left over for a day lost in time, long ago, when they showed their best sides to each other. _Someday. Someday, just maybe_.

They stood like that for a while and watched the sun sink towards the horizon, casting a heady glow to bathe the park in summer gold.

* * *

"Itsuki. Call me if the blue giants get out of hand tonight," Kyon ordered, without preamble.

"Okay. Underst— Wait. _What_? Wait, wait, Kyon, what did you _do_?!"

"Huh? Is something happening?"

A strangely sulky, suspicious silence filled the connection between their phones, until Itsuki said, almost like he wanted something strange to have happened, "No. Nothing really."

"I didn't _think_ it would, but just keep an eye on it, will you? Ah, I suppose Haruhi might be more sensitive in her sleep. Between midnight and the crack of dawn, right? That's the peak of the closed space."

"You said something to Haruhi," said Itsuki flatly.

"It was necessary. She approached me first. You will thank me later. I am preventing seismic instability in the future, which I know you want to avoid. I really should have done this a long time ago."

"Yes, but Kyon, what—"

"See you later. Come by my house after we meet again. I'll fill you in on what's going on."

_Click. _Doooo-**doooh**-doo-**dooooh**... Itsuki's temples started pounding in sync with the sounds, and he shut his phone with a snap.

Yuki caught his gaze from a few paces away in the library. Itsuki nodded acknowledgment, and she went back to grazing. Then she made a rare comment. "I, also, shall monitor Suzumiya Haruhi's data output."

"Do you _approve_?" asked Itsuki, baldly, forgetting who he was asking. He just wanted to vent.

Yuki's face was shuttered, as always. "I do not approve or disapprove. However, I trust Kyon when he says it is necessary. He is not inclined to make sudden or groundless judgments. Also, he is Haruhi's chosen one. He is the person who will find the right answer, if anyone will."

Itsuki blinked. Yuki's trust. No arguing with that, thought Itsuki; and there had been something between Kyon and Yuki ever since the closing of the Tanabata time-loop. Well, perhaps even before that. "Did you hear everything on his side of the line?"

Yuki nodded slightly. "Yes. I took the liberty to eavesdrop, as it was computer data based on and pertaining to the SOS Brigade." She selected a book, and headed for the checkout. Itsuki followed.

* * *

Kyon had just finished his call to Itsuki when he turned the corner when a hand closed on his shoulder. He was roughly turned around by Mikuru-sama, who was quite a bit taller than him and wearing a very serious expression. "Kyon-kun, I have no right to ask, but I am going to take you with me." She reached for a tiny silver device on her arm.

"Wha—" _That was asking?_

The world went dark and voices thundered too loud and too soft in his ears, and then there was light again, his eyes were open, and he staggered with dizziness. "Oops, I should've sat you down," said Mikuru-sama. "Time-sickness. Sorry about that. I forgot. Come."

"Is this allowed...?" Kyon asked, shaking his head like there was water in his ears.

"Yes. I don't break rules," she said, and giggled.

That didn't sound very reassuring to Kyon. "What are we going to do? Isn't this... a bit frivolous? It can't be serious business, can it? Nothing's happening that I know of!"

"Oh, Kyon-kun, just because it's frivolous to the future doesn't mean it's frivolous to _me_! Come on, please!"

"Why me?"

That stopped her in her tracks. "Mmmph..." She thought. "Because I thought of, well, I spotted you first." And continued pulling him along.

_What a shallow reason! _"I'm not in the future, am I?" He still felt woozy.

"No, of course not. Don't you recognize your own past? This is two hours ago."

"I didn't come this way two hours ago. So why—"

"Oh, never mind, forget it! You'll see!" said Mikuru-sama.

They ran four more blocks; then Mikuru-sama stopped in the middle of the shopping district.

"Mikuru's in through here." She beckoned Kyon to a gate hung over with ivy, avoiding the range of Mikuru-chan's gaze. Together they peered through the leaves.

Mikuru and Takumi were chatting, having a normal conversation, and looking like they were enjoying themselves while they were at it.

"Oh, good. They're getting along. I was worried..." said Kyon. "Now, Mikuru-sama, what _is_ the problem exactly...?"

She stood spell-bound, waiting and watching intently, and murmured finally, "It was just about now... I think..."

Kyon peered more carefully through the leaves. Mikuru-chan gesturing, Takumi listening and nodding. A car passed them by, stirring the leaves and kicking up dust, and Mikuru's skirt fluttered. It was the weekend, so it was longer than her school skirt, but... Kyon flicked his gaze back to Takumi, whose eyes were fixed on the ground and glazing. Attack of the Seira-tan. Kyon felt a little sick. Speaking of which, no one had thought to explain her to Mikuru-chan...

He glanced over at Mikuru-sama. She was biting her lip and blushing a very bright red.

"If this embarrasses you so much, why did you come back here?" Kyon said, logically.

"Erm, to change it... if it went wrong. But I can't remember... what happened exactly..."

_Oh, please, go back to the future already..._ Kyon gripped the chainlink fence with his forefingers and leaned, and the fence bent forward alarmingly.

Mikuru-chan saw the fingers and the straining fence and squealed in fright; then she clapped her hands over her mouth, and glanced at Takumi. Takumi snapped out of his trance and stared at Mikuru, horrified, and they both flicked their eyes at each other and the ivy-clad gate, where Kyon had (in surprise) withdrawn his fingers from the fence.

"Was _that_ what you wanted, Mikuru-sama?"

"I ... suppose," she said. "That was fine. So that was why... Never mind. Goodbye, Kyon-kun."

"What? Er. Good-bye?"

But Mikuru-sama had vanished.

_I didn't mean you to return that fast! _"Well, if it's not serious, then _don't come back_!" Kyon shouted after her uselessly.

Both Mikuru's and Takumi's heads swiveled towards the gate and they started laughing. Kyon faintly heard them say, "_Didn't that sound like...?_" And they laughed again.

It must have been meant to happen. _Now_ what do I do? Kyon wondered. I have to avoid myself, Yuuki, Itsuki, Haruhi, and those two for two _hours_ when I don't know where we'll all have been. Ah. I know. I'll just go home and take a nap...


	10. Chapter 10: Explanation Introspection

**Chapter Ten: Explanation ****Introspection**

"I'm coming in!"

"Ah, Koizumi-kun..." Kyon's mother greeted him. "Kyon's in his room..."

Kyon ran downstairs and barely missed smacking into Itsuki standing at the bottom with a suitcase. "Staying the night again?" he asked.

"If you don't mind," said Itsuki apologetically.

"Fine. I guess Mum will find a bed for you. She told me to tell you that you're not sleeping on the floor ever again. And scolded me for letting you do it the last time." Kyon mounted the stairs.

"Ah, I see. You had something to tell me?" Itsuki followed.

"Yes. I talked to Haruhi today about the giants incident of almost a year ago. We confirmed the nature of our relationship."

Itsuki braced himself, and set his jaw. "I see. Which is...?"

"Friends only. She thanked me for her first rejection." Kyon's smile was watery.

Itsuki felt vaguely surprised, and then caught on. "So that's why you called."

"Yeah. She might be more bothered than she appears. That's what I thought."

"You're probably right. Sorry I got upset."

"No problem, I was in a rush. The adult Mikuru took me on an errand." Kyon sighed.

Itsuki wasn't particularly interested, but he asked, "What about?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I'm not even sure she knew. It was something to do with Nishijou and Mikuru."

"Seira-tan?"

"Maybe." Kyon shrugged.

Itsuki understood, and sighed also. "It's useless to speculate, huh?"

"For sure."

* * *

The night passed fairly uneventfully, though Itsuki didn't look well-rested to Kyon. It was still dark when they woke in the morning. Itsuki reported that Suzumiya was dreaming the memory of her night with Kyon and the giants again, but it wasn't creating any closed space.

"As expected," said Kyon, and breathed a sigh of relief. "If nothing happened between the hours of twelve midnight and four in the morning, I think we're home free, aren't we?"

Itsuki nodded his assent, then hedged, "Most likely." Well, that was typical of him.

"Fine. I'm sleeping some more." Kyon rolled over. "You should, too." He closed his eyes.

Itsuki closed his eyes. A thought occurred to him. "Kyon."

"Mmm." Listening.

"I think I know what Nishijou — no, Seira-tan — was saying now."

"Mm."

" '_I like watching you sleep._' She was talking about me and Suzumiya, wasn't she?"

"How would I know?" Kyon yawned.

"Is that strange?"

"I doubt it. People look ... cute... or pretty... or peaceful... when they sleep..." Then Kyon woke up to what he said and sat bolt upright, staring wide-eyed at Itsuki. "Wait, what? Shoot, you're not talking literally, are you?"

"I've watched over her, every night, for years. Not with my eyes. But I'm conscious and thinking of her whenever I sleep. I know her better than anyone else, and yet…" _Why did I have to fall in love with her? Was it inevitable that my role as protector would evolve into this? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't Kyon take my advice, fall in love with her, and make me move on? _Itsuki stopped talking; his thoughts had taken over. Then he cleared his voice and said, "Kyon, in that parallel world you went to earlier this year..."

"_Do_ you think I should be telling you who "you" happened to be there?" Kyon muttered, a little irritated. "I'd think even you would realize that thinking about that world is a little like eavesdropping on your future self! I don't think I would even want to know about the version of me who was supposed to have lived there."

"Please," said Itsuki.

Kyon picked at the covers of his bed, then sighed and relented. "You were Suzumiya's boyfriend. You liked her, but were afraid that she was bored of you. You were just the mysterious transfer student to her. And you were a tad jealous of me because, at least at the time, I had her full attention." He knew he sounded bitter. Kyon flopped back down and buried his head in the pillow, muffling his words before he finished. He didn't want to feed Itsuki's insecurities by detailing the real reasons why Itsuki had envied Kyon.

Itsuki wriggled on his futon. "Was that all? I couldn't catch all of it." Kyon failed to respond. "Well, I understood the gist." Itsuki settled back down. "But in general, the whole event, what happened?"

For a while Kyon would not respond, for it was dark; but Itsuki pressed him further, and he told him. It was confusing. When Kyon had woken up after falling down the stairs—the original universe's fair compensation for being stabbed by Ryoko Asakura in the parallel universe—he had only told them enough to fix the "time loop" with him and no more. It sounded like Kyon had been through a bit more than a time loop—it was more like a paradox. More disturbingly, Kyon had borne the entire responsibility of the club on his own shoulders, and the personal responsibility for Haruhi's and Yuki's futures as well. That had to weigh on him.

It was rather sad, but also funny, to remember what Haruhi had made him do after all Kyon's troubles. If anything, Haruhi ought to be in debt to Kyon.

Sleep came upon them slowly, and they sank into it as if into the embrace of a swampy peat bog.

* * *

For Kyon and Itsuki, time passed normally. They fooled around all weekend, competing with video games or running around playing catch outside. Now that Itsuki had recovered from his mental and physical exhaustion he had entailed while trailing Itsuki, he was positively eager to stay active.

When Kyon got the chance, he asked Itsuki about the movie they made for the school festival that last year. Itsuki was uncharacteristically candid. Even so, it took Kyon a good half day before he finally got the nerve to ask the question that had been hounding him all year.

"So, what were you thinking when Haruhi asked you to kiss Mikuru?" Kyon asked tersely.

"Promise you won't get angry first."

Kyon agreed.

"I was panicking."

Kyon closed his eyes, pressed his hands to his face, and groaned. "I would never have guessed."

Itsuki's face twisted. "It's a gift, and a curse. I couldn't think… I just did what she said, because it was the easiest thing to do, and meanwhile my head was screaming at me the entire time and telling me to do something, anything which wouldn't hurt Mikuru and not distress Haruhi. I think I would have pulled back at the last minute…but I'm not sure."

"That's reasonable, I guess," Kyon sighed.

"Here was the problem. I'm Haruhi's yes-man."

"You've made that pretty clear." It was the most irritating thing about Itsuki's behavior in the club, and one thing about him that Kyon was forced to recognize was not a completely natural part of his character. He had had an inkling, before, that something about it was fake, but had never known how deep the attitude went. Still, after spending time outside of class with Itsuki for the last few weeks, he had only begun to understand.

"Haruhi, at that time, was more unstable than she is now. In retrospect, she needed a couple of real crises to feel out what she could and could not do. Although you might not perceive it, I know that Haruhi steadfastly relies on all of us to play our roles perfectly."

Kyon nodded.

"The only one that doesn't apply to…completely…is you, Kyon. Because you're completely human, and the only one she respects as a thinker...no, that's not quite right. Despite what it looks like, she's desperate for your approval. I think I've tried to tell you that before, but I'm not sure how successful I was."

"Your hints helped."

"I'm glad. Everything about this was difficult. I understand her, but I don't understand you. You don't understand her. You…sometimes seem to understand me, but because of my acting, you mostly have to go by my words alone. So I had to be go-between, and I'm afraid the messages got garbled. It would have been better if I was in a position that she trusted more, and able to address the situation directly, but instead I am the one who has to prove my loyalty over and over. You don't have that burden. If you object, Kyon, that's just you; it's what you always do. It will upset her, but it's not as if the entire Brigade rising against her, which is what my disapproval would represent."

"Good grief," Kyon muttered. "_Yareyare."_

Itsuki looked down at the table, and traced a grain in the wood. "Unfortunately, as her yes-man, I see it as impossible for Haruhi to ever accept me as a potential love interest."

"And that entire incident didn't _turn you off at all_? Seriously, Itsuki! Even if we could have had a future together, I think — I realized — that was it for us. I can't tolerate that behavior. Not even if she grew past it." Kyon shook his head.

"It was a real shock to my system, but I…can't…" Itsuki shook his head. "I still love her." He sniffed. "I can't explain it any more than that I always have an outlet in my mind that feeds me her emotions…and I _understand_, whether I want to or not."

"You're between a rock and a hard place, then, Itsuki."

"I know, right?" Itsuki laughed easily but insincerely. He grew distracted, and Kyon didn't feel like picking up the conversation for a while after that.

After they were done playing, Kyon walked Itsuki home. He even got to meet Itsuki's parents. They were nice but reserved people, with faint smiles and shy faces. Compared to them, Itsuki's style of self-expression was practically straight-forward.

"They're thinking of breaking up," Itsuki confided to Kyon once they left.

"What? How— But they're so—"

"Yeah, I know. I don't get it." Itsuki sighed and ruffled his hair with one hand. "And they _are_ quiet about it; I know they just don't want to upset me. Still. It has to do with Dad's decision to move here, I think." He sighed again. "And I'm pretty sure that was out of his control. The esper society probably found a way to force him to do it."

"I see." Kyon hesitated to say anything else.

Luckily, Itsuki took the bait. "So, that's why I've been coming to your house so often lately. The silence is horrible," he said lamely. A twig snapped underfoot.

Somehow, Kyon didn't buy that, but he wasn't about to pursue the issue. "Sure. Anytime," said Kyon. "For what it's worth, I think they'll work it out."

Itsuki shrugged. "Maybe." But his eyes were distant, as if his heart had already grown cold.


	11. Chapter 11: Decomposition

**Chapter Eleven: Decomposition**

Yuki stayed late in the clubroom that Friday afternoon, ostensibly reading. If there was someone that they hadn't expected to be disturbed by Kyon's declaration, it was Yuki. After all, she was a glorified computer, so to speak, and she had said that she trusted Kyon's judgment.

But people, being people, aren't experienced with computers that are slowly gaining emotions, and computers, being computers, are not receptive to those emotions in the slightest. The Data Integration Thought Entity did not rank her so favorably these days because of the errors. If not for Kyon, she would have been replaced in the January of that year. And somehow they had made it to April; to all appearances, there should be no reason why Yuki would drop out of North High in the next two years of high school. Yuki knew who would be next. It wouldn't be Asakura, but it would be a new and improved model with twice Yuki's power, and it _wouldn't_ _work_.

If she had felt the impulse as a normal human would, Yuki would have wanted to scream, yell, and argue. She didn't, but it was harder and harder to communicate intelligibly with the Data Overmind. The humans knew too little about what was coming.

The fact that Takumi was a gigalomaniac hadn't satisfied the Thought Entity. Yuki was in three minds about it. One, any gigalomaniac had the potential to control the planet as thoroughly as Suzumiya could; two, that Suzumiya had less power than they thought; and three, that the gigalomaniacs were power-generators of human evolution on a smaller, but more manageable, scale and that perhaps this ought to be encouraged.

But the Data Overmind was a conservative entity, and it took the worst-case scenario at face value, though Yuki had tried to relay the prioritization of her thinking in the most meticulous of detail. It wasn't working. Yuki ran a self-checking diagnostic. The connection was fine. Her message was fine. The Data Overmind had disregarded her opinion on the grounds of her human evolution. So this was what her existence had come to.

Yuki didn't have words. Perhaps Kyon would have had them, the words to make sense of her situation and talk sense to the Overmind.

Time passed, and Yuki's consciousness fell further and further out of sync with the Overmind with its passing, and without her awareness, she grew weaker. Stubbornness glued her to her chair. She reached out, again and again, trying to re-establish the link. She lost awareness...

At school, Kyon noticed, everyone was there but Yuki. It was strange, because Kyon was sure that Yuki had wanted to contact him about Nishijou. After school he headed to the club, and arrived first. He opened the door, and almost didn't notice anything wrong, but then something in the background caught his eye.

Yuki, collapsed, sitting in a chair among the shadows.

* * *

There was movement. A touch on her arm, insistent, grabbing, she flopped bonelessly back and forth... It stopped. "Yuki," a voice sighed hopelessly, "Wake up," and gently pushed her back into her seat. She knew it was a gentle voice, a boy's voice. At first she couldn't identify it.

She needed—to respond—

She almost opened her eyes, and turned her head. "K-k-k—" _Kyon. _Her body wasn't responding smoothly. Her fingers jerked, she turned and her neck clicked as she turned towards the voice. Her balance tipped the wrong way and she fell off the chair and couldn't breathe. It was painful, pain which she had never felt so acutely before, not even when Ryoko stabbed her with modified chair legs while trying to kill Kyon… She struggled to move, to breathe…

"Yuki," said Kyon, and his voice nearly cracked. "Are you—all right?"

"Kyon. Kyon-kun," she said softly. Yuki opened her eyes and rolled them to focus on his face. The right side of her body was paralyzed. She swung an arm out, sliding it across the wooden floor.

Kyon didn't know what to do; he knelt and held out his hand, but he wasn't sure she could grab it. "What are you doing? Do you need help?"

Painstakingly, she lifted herself up on her left side. Curled her legs in. Grabbed the chair with her other arm. Tried to pull herself up. She couldn't. She couldn't manage the little jump required to seat herself in the chair. "No," she said, and Kyon looked on, his face white and stricken. "Once I warm up, and keep moving, I will be fine," she told him.

She didn't know that. It was almost a lie. It might not have been true.

"Yuki. Yuki, it's... it's Monday afternoon."

She blinked, but didn't react.

"How long were you here?" asked Kyon.

"For three days," she answered.

Since the walk in the park, then.

"The heating wasn't on. It's still cold at night, Yuki. Why did you come here?"

"I needed to talk to the Data Overmind."

"What happened?"

Yuki opened her mouth, and closed it. She couldn't begin to describe... it was ... so peculiar. She couldn't put words to the experience that Kyon would understand; they were too technical.

But Kyon had already guessed. "The Data Overmind rejected you. It set you free, and rejected you," said Kyon, angry. "It couldn't take you away, so it cut you off. Yuki. How do you get your energy?"

"90% of it comes direct from the Data Overmind," said Yuki, automatically. "10% from sunlight, water, air, and food sources."

"Yuki, you weren't alive ... as I know being alive ... when I came in."

She didn't move her head, or turn to look at him. "You may be correct."

"You don't know?" said Kyon, anxiously.

"It was dark. Blank. I knew nothing," she said quietly, in the quiet voice that was a fraction of her factual and informative mode.

"Can you stand?" Kyon asked.

She did, and staggered. Her left leg shuddered from the effort, failed, and she dropped. Kyon caught her before she collided with the ground, and lifted her back to the chair. That helped. Yuki could breathe easier.

"There's no help for it," said Kyon. He turned and knelt in front of Yuki with his back to her.

Breathily, Yuki asked, "What—are you doing?"

"Yuki. Get on." There was something pained and inscrutable about Kyon's voice. "I told you I would take care of you and I will." He waited. "If you let me."

She understood. He wanted her on his back. Carefully, she shifted her weight forward and placed her arms on Kyon's shoulders, rested her body on his back, and let her legs fall within arms reach. Gently, carefully, he put his arms under her legs and stood up, always tilting forward. He'd walked this way with his sister before, but she was half his size. He really didn't want to drop Nagato. "Arms around my neck," he told her, and she clasped them thus, and he walked them quickly out of the classroom.

His priority was not her comfort. It was speed. The ride was jerky and they both knocked into door-handles, drinking fountains, desks, and other schoolroom obstacles. Kyon had to re-shift his grip on her every so often or she slipped; with every toss Yuki thought her android's equivalent to a heart might jump out of her chest.

They reached the infirmary. Kyon threw open the window, and thrust Yuki under the glow. He found a blanket, and wrapped her legs in it. Finding the heater, he set the temperature to a little higher than normal. He could think of nothing else. He spun around, and seized Yuki's shoulders to look into her eyes. "Yuki. When did you last eat?"

"On Saturday. At the café," she said.

Kyon sucked in his breath. "How often do you eat?"

She thought. "Once a day."

"You couldn't possibly," he muttered, but it wasn't that he didn't believe her. He did. When he visited parallel-Nagato's place, parallel-Ryoko Asakura had said something to that point, hadn't she? "You need food. I'm calling Haruhi."

"Kyon—" she tried to protest.

"I'm calling Haruhi. I'm not leaving." Kyon grit his teeth, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed. He spoke quickly, hardly letting her get a word in edgewise. "Haruhi, hello. This is Kyon. Nagato... Nagato had an accident. She's feeling faint. I think she hasn't eaten enough today. She spent all day in the nurse's station, and they're saying she can't go home. Yes. Yes. There is something you can do. Can you buy a couple of quick convenience store lunches?" He listened. "Yes, yes. Please just hurry. I can't leave her." He hung up the phone.

"She went," said Yuki, and closed her eyes.

"Yes. She did," said Kyon, and brushed her forehead with his hand. Cool. Too cool. She shouldn't be this cold. He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingers. Yuki leaned her forehead against his hand and Kyon couldn't pull away.

Ten minutes later the door burst open. "Kyon!" Haruhi cried, and handed him the groceries while trying to sneak a peek through the door. Kyon stood in front of her, blocking the door, laughing and smiling, and then suddenly Haruhi left, calling over her shoulder, "Get well, Yuki-chan!"

"What ... what did you say to her?" Nagato asked, which caught Kyon's attention; she so rarely exhibited curiosity.

"I don't know myself," said Kyon, and closed the door. "It matters that little."

"I see." Yuki leaned on the back wall.

"Yuki, look at me. Sit up. Eat these." Kyon had opened one of the packages and held an onigiri out to her. Because it was there, and her hand was heavy, she took a bite. And then another. Then she took it from Kyon's hand, and ate for herself, very slowly, eyes closed. Eventually she finished, opened her eyes, and slumped against the back wall.

Kyon looked into her eyes, earnestly trying to impress her with the importance of her duty to herself. "Yuki. You mustn't go without meals for so long. You _must_ eat three times a day, at least."

"I know," said Yuki. "I think… from now on… I must provide my own sustenance." She tried to remember what the Data Overmind had said to her and failed, which had never happened before. Still, she had the vague sense that there _had _been something along those lines.

"From now on, promise me you will eat that much at least?" Kyon begged her.

Yuki promised.

When Yuki was ready to stand and leave, Kyon took her to the police station, explaining that she lived in a neighborhood far from his (true) and she was probably too weak to walk home as she had fainted earlier that day and needed rest. Without further ado, they offered her a ride home in the police car, and they left. As for Kyon, he couldn't go back to the Brigade meeting as things stood. He went home.

But Kyon knew that the hard times were only just beginning.

* * *

"What happened to Yuki?" asked Mikuru-chan anxiously in the clubroom.

"She's sick. Kyon found her collapsed in the clubroom," said Haruhi. She threw herself into the computer desk chair and flipped her hair, as usual, but she wasn't smiling. No, she definitely wasn't smiling.

Mikuru-chan and Itsuki exchanged glances, and hastily looked away from each other.

Takumi lifted his head. "Where is Kyon now?"

"He probably took Yuki home," Haruhi replied, and stared out the window.

Had Haruhi grown? Itsuki suddenly wondered. He took a quick peek. He was struck by her long legs, and the mature, calm demeanor she had adopted more and more lately. It was times like these that made him think that Haruhi just might have unfinished business with Kyon. Or perhaps she was bothered by what had happened to Yuki, and had become fond of her club members...

But the quiet spell ended relatively quickly. Haruhi shook off the mood, turned back around and began brainstorming a plan for the next school festival with only slightly less energy than usual. Although stunned by recent developments, Mikuru and Nishijou took turns making hesitant suggestions. Itsuki racked his brains but couldn't think of anything and was uncharacteristically silent.

After thirty minutes of nothing to report, Itsuki couldn't take it anymore. The buzzing lights, the talking, the whiteness of the board, the smell of Expo markers and dried eraser ink, the awkward silence, where Kyon would have jumped in had he been there, but he wasn't: all this assaulted his skull and pounded on his temples. Blindly, Itsuki stood, and said, "I'm going home ahead of you. _Shitsuree shimasu. _Pardon me," and left. He let the door to the club bang shut behind him.

To his surprise, he heard the door creak open again behind him, making the hair on the back of his neck rise (that door needed oil on its hinges, he reminded himself) and he heard the squeak of Haruhi's school slippers on the floor.

"Itsuki. Itsuki," she repeated urgently and slid to a stop in front of him before she dashed forward to snatch up his hands.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"What are you doing? Nobody leaves before the Chief!" Haruhi whispered loudly, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," he said, again. "But so have Kyon and Yuki. I can't focus, Haruhi, I'm sorry." He rubbed his forehead. "I have a headache. I'm going home."

Haruhi let go of his hands and took a step back. "Are you sick too?" she whispered.

"What? No. Just tired," said Itsuki, and moved to walk past her. Haruhi blocked his way.

"Please. Let's be normal," she said.

It was the last thing he expected her to say. In shock, he looked her in the eyes.

"Please," Haruhi pleaded, seizing his jacket. "It's all because I invited Nishijou-kun to come into the club, isn't it?" She swiped her eyes. "Mikuru likes Nishijou, I can tell. And Kyon and Yuki have been— Something happened that time when Kyon hit his head. Kyon hardly stops to stare at Mikuru anymore; he's too busy making sure Nishijou doesn't." Haruhi gulped. "I forced everyone to join the club." She laughed nervously, glancing at him. Itsuki studied her face, his own unreadable. "I had no friends in middle school. I didn't care. Everyone who knew me before avoided me. I knew no one would make me their friend unless I got close to them first, and I had never wanted a friend until last year. Because Kyon—Kyon was my first— But nobody else in their right mind would approach me to be their friend."

"Haruhi, I don't understand what you're saying," said Itsuki, trying to be gentle, but Haruhi's distress was infectious.

"I know I'm blabbering. I know," she said, almost crying. "Please listen. And then there was Kyon. He asked me questions. They were mostly stupid. And then he asked me about my hair. That was stupid, too, but you see, he _noticed_! He cared. He gave me the idea for the Brigade, and I made it happen." Haruhi lowered her head, pressing it into Itsuki's chest and broke into tears. "Itsuki! Why are you leaving? Why? Why does everyone listen to Kyon, even though I made the Brigade, why?"

At first he was too shocked and rigid to respond. Then he put an arm around her shoulders, aware of the absurdity of the situation. He was barely half a head taller than her. He stroked her hair. She seemed to like that, and the tremors of emotion stopped.

She looked up at him. "It's true, isn't it?"

"In a way, yes. In a way, no," said Itsuki woodenly.

Immediately — "I just don't _understand_ you!" Haruhi sobbed.

"_Sh, sh_," he whispered into her hair, and patted her on the back. "I only meant— I only meant," he started, "that you are _both_ our leaders. Haruhi, have you ever known Kyon to suggest a direction for where the club is going? The next projects, and so forth?"

"No." Haruhi shook her head. "He always objects."

"Yes, well, that's Kyon's personality. He likes participating, actually, although he'll never admit it to anyone." As Itsuki understood it, during Yuki's crisis the previous summer, Kyon once had the opportunity to decide whether Haruhi kept her powers and caused him trouble for the rest of his life, or vanished from his life altogether. Since Haruhi was here at North High, he knew Kyon had come to terms with the fact that despite the perpetual bother, he would sorely miss Haruhi's antics and the world was more interesting with her there. Kyon had never said that he regretted that decision, although Itsuki sensed that it had hurt him more than he could say to have to return Yuki to her original state, a robot without feelings, against her own wish to change the world. There was no way out of his responsibility for that decision; Yuki had placed the choice in Kyon's hands.

Itsuki's intuition flared and his mind's borders dissolved at the edges and reformed, bigger and in a stranger shape than before. So that was what was wrong with Yuki— He turned his face to the window, in the direction Yuki and Kyon had probably gone, and gaped.

"What?" said Haruhi, still in his arms, glancing from him to the window. "What is it, Itsuki?"

And Itsuki wondered, What am I _doing_? What is _he—_

"I realized something. Yuki," he said, deeply troubled and shaken to the core. "I think I know what it is." He extricated himself from Haruhi and stepped back, trying to think.

"Kyon loves Yuki?" asked Haruhi, searching Itsuki's face.

"You don't know the half of it," said Itsuki, gasping with the force of the realization. Finally, he was able to focus on Haruhi's features. Now she was calm and serious, her brows were furrowed with confusion and concentration. It scared him a little how easily she switched emotions like that. But it didn't matter. Haruhi was having her own crisis. He had to come back to the present. "Listen, Haruhi," he said, grasping her shoulders. "You give the club a purpose. You bring us together, you organize us, you give us direction. But you see, Kyon helps us...help you. To understand you. To come between us and you. He speaks up when you go too far, on our behalf. He understands you best. The rest of us, we're shooting in the dark, from our perspectives. Do you see?"

"The movie. When I filmed _The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina_," said Haruhi, realizing.

"Yes. Like that." Itsuki looked away. "We were willing to do that scene," he said, getting quieter, "since you insisted, but it was going too far, and we felt uncertain. We didn't have the courage to speak out, so Kyon spoke on our behalf. And you stepped back."

"You don't have to go through Kyon with me," said Haruhi, and frowned. "I don't want to be a dictator."

Itsuki's lips twitched. "Don't you?"

"Well, not _that_ much," she muttered, and lowered her eyes.

"There were other reasons for it," Itsuki found himself saying. The esper society. "But never mind." He thought back. How had that happened? "I suppose it happened because Kyon was closest friends with you, and we came second. And we found it easier to become friends with him, directly, and with you, indirectly. We defer to Kyon, but we defer to you most of all, because we don't know _you_ as well."

"I see," said Haruhi, and looked at her shoes. "So Kyon has been gobetween."

"I realize that makes it sound like he's in the center of the club," said Itsuki weakly.

Haruhi laughed shortly. "No, that's exactly..." She ran one hand through her hair. "That's exactly what I thought it was."

Uncomfortably, Itsuki asked, "Are you unhappy with it?"

"Yes. No." Haruhi folded her arms. "Somehow, I just get the feeling that Kyon is more important than I am."

Itsuki shrugged. "I think you're both necessary. Without you, Kyon wouldn't bother holding the club together." Without her, none of them would have a reason for existence...

"Maybe so." Haruhi gave herself a little shake, throwing off her doubts. "Itsuki, please come back so we can continue with the meeting. Like normal."_ I don't want anything to change: just yet._

"...Okay."

It was the least he could do.

Back in the early days of the club, last year— it was true, what she said. They had all latched onto Kyon as if he was their savior. They went to him to discuss anything to do with Suzumiya, simply because he was her friend and he was human. But maybe it wasn't about his being human at all. Kyon was just Kyon. He was observant, and that... that was all. So when the giants crisis came up, they made sure that Kyon was the man for the job. They set him up. It worked. And it kept working.

Maybe it didn't have to be that way anymore. But if not, what would it look like?

Different. Direct. Individual.

If Kyon was pulling away—and he was doing that, surely, by confessing his true feelings (or lack of) to Suzumiya—then someone, no, maybe all of them had to take his place, or the world would be rewritten. In no uncertain terms, Haruhi had told him: she didn't want subjects. She wanted friends. It was a big task, but he thought it could be done. They had been so focused on managing Suzumiya, and on the other hand being her subjects, that they had neglected to give of themselves as she had been trying to do with them. He hoped it was a lesson they wouldn't forget.

Kyon was right last summer. Itsuki hadn't truly listened, though he thought he had. They didn't pay enough attention yet they relied on each other so much. First, Yuki had been left behind, in real time, stuck in the time loop; because of that, Yuki had failed; and now Yuki was in trouble again. Would the cycle never end? They _had_ to take care of each other.


	12. Chapter 12: Recoil & Reassess

**Chapter Twelve: Recoil & Reassess**

They were really struggling. They didn't look it. Yuki hadn't collapsed again; she looked pristine as ever, but Kyon knew that appearance was deceptive.

He decided not to delve into the specifics of "why" the Data Overmind had summarily dumped her until after he could be sure that Yuki could take care of herself.

"_Migi hidari, midari higi, hidari migi, itsumo itsumo sono michi , onnaji —" __(right, left, light, reft, left, right, it's always always this way, the very same—)_

The cooking class had strange taste in music. It was quite distracting to Kyon. He kept mixing up his left and right and that was staring to aggravate him.

Yuki had no trouble with the audio suggestions, though. She was still dangerously pale, and light-headed enough that Kyon had to wonder whether she was actually listening to him sometimes. Plus she was still a computer. Computers don't mix up their rights and lefts, once programmed in.

"Hey, are you sure you're getting enough sun?" Kyon inquired.

Yuki nodded. "4 times, I went into the sun for 30 minutes."

"Meaning, two hours total." Kyon sat back. "How much energy do you get from that, again?"

"4.8 hours' time. This is 1/2oth of the 24-hour day."

"It's so hard to calculate your dietary needs with this chlorophyll energy ... thing," Kyon complained. "Oh, _why_ did the Data Overmind have to desert you like this?"

Yuki ignored this. "I can do the math," Yuki stated.

Kyon cast her a sardonic glance. "I know you can. What I want is to _see_ it in front of my _eyes_." He felt irritated and peevish.

"I can do that. It may surprise and disturb the real cooking class." Kyon knew she could think her way around this obstacle, if she wanted to. Apparently she didn't want to. He couldn't think why. Was this stubbornness a part of her emerging personality? "However…you said were going to show me how to cook _nikujaga_ today," Yuki prompted.

"Yes, yes, like I know how to make _nikujaga_," Kyon muttered, picking up the recipe book from the counter and paging through it.

Yuki cocked her head to the side. "How do you intend to teach if you cannot make it yourself?"

"From the recipe. I know the steps in between the instructions that you don't, because they're not specified exactly," said Kyon. "My mom taught me those. I can cook in general. Haruhi, apparently, can't, a fact for which I am grateful." What havoc she would bring.

Out loud, Yuki wondered why Haruhi couldn't cook.

"Blowed if I know," said Kyon, rudely. "Perhaps she has too many accidents? I've never understood the claims of people who say they can't cook. Logically we should all be equally capable of the same basic dishes. But I suppose we'll find out if that's true with you."

Yuki blinked at him. "If you insist."

And that was the way it went.

Yuki was predictably so-so at cooking. Her efforts, at least, appeared better than Kyon's. Kyon's, however, consistently tasted better.

"This is the mysterious thing about cooking," Kyon sighed. "You can't follow the recipe _so_ exactly, Yuki. You need to think about what you want to eat, or at least what your guests want to eat."

"I have no preference. And I do not have guests."

Kyon racked his memory. "We visited you ... three years ago, I think, during the Tanabata paradox incident." _And who's to say I won't just want to come over some day?_

"True. However, you have not visited since, and also, your visits required no more than tea."

Now he remembered. Kyon did not like to remember that tea. It had been ... rather weak, at first, and soon after, much too strong. Kyon objected. "Anyway, Yuki, you aren't a time traveler like Mikuru. You can't know what will happen in the future."

"I can predict the future based on past patterns and data." This was the closest Yuki ever came to arguing with him.

Kyon ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "There is a difference between anticipation and prediction, Yuki."

Yuki's expression didn't change, but her shoulders hitched up slightly.

"Right, right. So you can't tell the difference. Here it is. Prediction is based on numbers, directions, patterns. Anticipation is also based on patterns, but on patterns of behavior, habit, preference, and context. For example ... you know that Mikuru consistently makes one cup of tea for every member of the Brigade on a given school day. Thus, tomorrow Mikuru will also make one cup of tea for every member who arrives. That is prediction. Anticipation is this:— You observed on the television today that tomorrow, it will be sunny. Haruhi will want to go outside. Mikuru will not have time to make tea, and Kyon and Itsuki will not want to drink hot tea on a hot day. Haruhi will want something cool to eat, and she will take the Brigade to her favorite ice-cream shop as she has done many times in the past. Since it is sunny tomorrow, we anticipate that every member of the brigade will not drink tea, but they may eat ice-cream."

Yuki shook her head.

"Obviously my example was inconsequential and I extrapolated more than necessary—usually anticipation doesn't take that many steps into account to draw a conclusion about the near future—but you can still see that in many ways, anticipation can be more accurate than prediction," Kyon added. "Because it takes the circumstances into account."

After a moment, Yuki inclined her head in agreement. "Yes."

"I'm sure you can learn to do it, Yuki. But you need practice. And experience." He steepled his fingers over the bridge of his nose and thought. Experimental subjects. Oh yes, his sister. She had good taste in food, and unfortunately or not, she was quite frank about it. In this case he would need her bluntness. Kyon's mother would be able to help a little, too, although she wouldn't be as blunt; she was more likely to tactfully give Yuki gentle suggestions about how to make the meal better. As for Kyon himself, he couldn't identify the problem with her cooking. It could be a general lack of spices, or perhaps not cooking the food too much or not enough, and he couldn't tell.

"So here's what we'll do, Yuki. You practice making the perfect meal on my family. Mom would love help in the kitchen, I think, and you can use us to gauge reactions. Eventually, you'll make something that appeals to all of them and makes them praise you sincerely." _It would also, of course, give me an easy way to keep an eye on you._

Yuki nodded.

"All right."

* * *

The plan worked. Kyon's mother was surprised but enthusiastic about the enterprise, and she took Yuki under her wing in the kitchen. Kyon had often caught her looking at them—Kyon and Yuki—together, but she never said anything. Nevertheless, Kyon thought she might have sensed a deeper connection than they were showing at the dinner table.

The first time they had dinner, Kyon's mother headed the conversation and started off with questions.

"Do you have any family, Yuki-chan?"

"No."

"Who takes care of you, then?"

"..." Yuki took some time to think. "The government, I suppose."

Kyon was relieved by her answer. The Data Overmind would be too hard to explain. He supposed he ought to stop second-guessing her. Yuki had shown time and time again in various contexts that she could handle interactions with people who could not be introduced to the truth.

Kyon's mother got a very closed and tight look as she passed the broccoli, and Kyon knew that she would have words with him later for not telling her about the situation beforehand, but she didn't pursue that line of questioning any further. "You're always welcome here, Yuki-chan. Please come again," she said, and that was the last time she spoke of it.

"What are your interests?"

"Literature and computers," Kyon answered for Yuki, when she took too long to answer. Yuki wasn't used to talking in the middle of eating.

"I was asking Yuki, darling," Kyon's mother reproved him. "Is that so, Yuki?"

"Kyon speaks the truth."

"Yes, he usually does, but I'd like to hear a bit more from you. What do you like about them?"

And to Kyon's surprise, that was all it took to get Yuki to open up.

"I like reading because I like the smell of the book and the feel of the pages against my fingers. It is an enjoyable way to spend my time. Time flows faster with a book in my hands."

The words sounded so innocent, but suddenly Kyon was horrified. _Damn_ Haruhi's stupid endless summer.

Yuki continued, "I like analyzing the puns in the names, and predicting what happens next in the plot. There are so many possibilities. I try to understand what the people in the stories feel. It is difficult. And there are no images in movies or _anime_ or _manga_ that can rival the pictures words create in the mind," said Yuki. "It is also interesting to think of what other people might see as they read. As for computers, they are also interesting. They are very logical and I have always been good with them. It's a challenge to push them to the very forefront of their capabilities and work within their limitations."

"Well," said Kyon's mother, "Have you ever considered a career in programming?"

Yuki turned to Kyon and blinked at him slowly.

What did she want from _him_? Kyon wondered.

Yuki turned back to Kyon's mother. "Yes."

Kyon bit his lip. Would the Data Overmind allow that?

Yuki turned to him again. "It will be all right," she said quietly, so quietly that Kyon's mother couldn't hear, and the conversation went on.

Kyon still felt anxious.

* * *

The phone rang.

"Kyon. Kyon."

"_Moshimoshi?_ Wait, Yuki, what?"

"I remembered what the Data Overmind decided."

"What..."

"It decided to prepare for the worst-case scenario. That all gigalomaniacs have the potential to become like Haruhi Suzumiya."

"Oh no..."

"I do not know what the Data Overmind going to do."

"I know. You've been disconnected."

"Even if we convince the Data Overmind that it has made the wrong judgment, it will not restore my unit to full function. It made that quite clear."

"It would be pointless to assume otherwise, wouldn't it."

"_Hai. _Yes."

* * *

"Yuki! Yuki!" Haruhi barreled down the hall (Kyon hastily stepped out of Haruhi's way) and she threw herself around Yuki's shoulders. Yuki stood rigidly and endured the manhandling. Haruhi pulled back abruptly. "You're all right? You're okay? We were so worried! Kyon told us that you had been anemic and that you fainted! Yuki, you simply must eat more red meat! I insist!" Haruhi buried Yuki in another crushing hug.

Kyon coughed and murmured, "So after I had that accident shortly before Christmas, you make me pay for the club's meals and attend lame parties, and then you turn around and act all sweet to Yuki?"

Haruhi let go of Yuki and rounded on him, glaring. "That was entirely different! You fell down the stairs!"

Kyon arched an eyebrow. "We both lost consciousness."

Haruhi scowled. "You just needed to be more careful. Yuki never knew what hit her."

Kyon clicked his tongue and shrugged, but he went quiet, because a double standard was a double standard and nothing would change Haruhi's mind.

Mikuru hopped up to them both, looking shy. A silent Takumi Nishijou followed a little ways behind her, as if he was her shadow; he didn't feel like he knew Yuki well enough to be able to say anything. "Are you okay, Yuki?" Mikuru asked.

"Just fine," Yuki answered.

"Really truly?"

"Yes."

"_Yokatta_," Mikuru sighed. "Thank goodness. Don't work yourself too hard, okay, _ne_?"

Yuki inclined her head in a slight nod.

Itsuki came up behind them and rested one hand on Yuki's shoulder, and squeezed. Yuki looked up at them.

"Try not to worry us again, _ne_?" said Itsuki softly, and smiled. "Or better yet, tell us when you are in need."

Yuki bowed to him slightly. "That was my intention all along. But it seems I was too late."

Itsuki withdrew his hand gravely. "Please make it a higher priority."

"I have done so."

"Thank you."

Haruhi was staring at the two of them somewhat worriedly. "Um, guys?" They looked back at her. Haruhi folded her arms, a little preoccupied. "Yuki, we need some help brainstorming, so let's all go back to the club room, okay? _Okaerimashou, ne._" She turned and led the way back to the clubroom, and the group followed her lead. Haruhi opened the door, they all trooped through, and the door clicked shut.

* * *

After club, Kyon tapped Itsuki's shoulder, and they followed Yuki out into the courtyard to talk, where Yuki sat in the sun.

"Itsuki, there's been a problem with one of the factions observing Haruhi Suzumiya. Yuki, can you explain the situation?"

Yuki did so in her usual quiet, clipped voice.

Itsuki bowed his head. "So, I'm guessing, you need me to prove that the minor gigalomaniacs are different from Suzumiya."

Kyon and Yuki nodded.

Itsuki sighed. "I'll see what I can do. This may take more collaboration than you think, however. Asahina-san, for instance, might be invaluable. We need to ask her if she can request certain restrictions from her higher-ups in the future society to be taken away so that she can better help."

"Do you think the situation warrants it?" asked Kyon. "It sounds like kicking the hornet's nest to me. The Data Overmind is in turmoil over what we discovered, and I thought it would be the most stable of the entities we had to deal with. What if the future society ties itself up in knots over the issue?"

"They might have data that we are not able to access about the minor gigalomaniacs. They have hindsight. Depending on their reaction—whether to divulge or not—that could tell us more about the situation. I would trust them to think before leaping to conclusions." Itsuki's eyes flicked to Yuki. "No offence to the aliens."

Kyon nodded. "Then we'll ask Asahina for assistance."

"Yuki, you may be having a problem with your boss, but that doesn't mean you necessarily have the best means to find the answer to the problem. I think that Kyon would agree when I say that our first priority for you is that you recover your strength and find out exactly what you can accomplish without the Data Overmind's support," Itsuki said gently, and Kyon nodded his support.

"I humbly request that I be allowed to come with you when you survey the gigalomaniacs," said Yuki. "My methods of data collection may prove useful."

"A valid point," said Kyon. "As long as you don't overtax yourself."

Yuki stirred, perhaps with some annoyance, and said flatly, "It will not happen again."

"Should we talk to Nishijou?" asked Kyon. "For contact with his people?"

"I can follow him again," said Itsuki, although he looked haggard and fatigued. "If we ask to see them, the gigalomaniacs might hide their powers in order to look less like a threat, or simply less strange, in front of strangers. It will interfere with our results less if they do not know that we are following them."

"Not that I have any special attachment to the kid, but I dislike lying to Nishijou," Kyon stated bluntly.

"We won't tell him anything. We'll just follow. He'll never know that we're there."

"That might not last for long. You don't know what can happen, and then the stalking will be hard to explain," Kyon objected. "Anyway, it may not be a lie, but it is deceitful behavior."

"It is worth the risk," Itsuki asserted, "so that we may present our case to the Thought Integration Entity in the most logical way possible, and so that Yuki may not be inconvenienced."

Kyon bowed his head. "Then I agree. I just wanted to point out the drawbacks of the plan."

"Then let's go. We'll talk to everyone and reconvene on Friday?"

"Sounds good. Good work," said Kyon.

"Good luck_,_" they echoed.


End file.
